Two Girls, One Heart
by hisgirlinterrupted
Summary: A story about a girl... who loves a girl... who loves a boy.
1. Chapter 1: Heartache

**Disclaimer: Twilight is the property of Stephenie Meyer. This is the property of me.  
**

**A/N: Character POV revealed in the E/N.  
**

* * *

**Chapter One: Heartache  
**

I can hear her crying.

Again.

Always again.

She's right down the hall in her room. Crying over him. Like the thousand other times she did. And the thousand other times she will. Maybe. Probably. Because he always hurts her.

I don't know what he did this time... to break her heart, and to break mine, and it really doesn't matter...

The fact that he did is enough.

It's enough and too much and...

And I can't just lay here anymore. Or leave her alone anymore. Broken and alone.

I climb from my bed and pad to my door and just listen for a moment. Not to Bella's tears, but to the beating of my own heart. It's too hard. And I will it to slow. To stop its pounding ache. And to give me the strength to soothe hers. Again. Instead of my own.

Because I'm in love with Bella Swan. My best friend. My roommate. The girl who's in love with him. The boy who hurts her. Over and over and over again... and then leaves her to me.

The girl who never would.

* * *

**E/N: So, you've met Angela...**

**And, yes, this story will have Edward.  
**


	2. Chapter 2: Selfless

**Just a little note... the chapters won't always be this short, and they certainly won't always come this fast, but since the first was such a tease, here's a little more. We're still with Angela. And Twilight still belongs to Stephenie. It always will. **

* * *

**Chapter Two: Selfless  
**

I knock softly on Bella's door and wait. If she doesn't want me to come in, she'll say so. If she says nothing, then it means that she does, but doesn't want to ask.

It's part of Bella's problem... though it shouldn't be one. She doesn't ask for anything. From anyone. She doesn't ask for what she wants, or what she needs. She's giving, and loving, and sweet. Too much. So much that sometimes people take advantage. They take and take and take from her, and give nothing in return. It's what _he _does to her - one of the many ways he wrongs her.

She deserves so much more than that. So much better than to be treated that way. And whatever way he treated her that led her to leave her tears on her pillow again now. Now, that she's quiet, and that her quiet has invited me in. To give her something she doesn't ask for.

And I will. I'll be the one again. The one to wipe the tears she cries for him from her beautiful, sorrow-drenched face. I'll be the one to show her tenderness. Show her that she's important. To someone. Show her that she's worth something. To someone. Show her that she's loved. By someone. Even though I'm not the someone she wants it all from... I'll give it. And take nothing from her. Ask for nothing, like she doesn't.

I open the door and cross the room to her bed. Climb in beside her and wrap my arms around her - as a _friend_, not the way I dream of holding her. Not the way I long to feel her against me. And not the way _she _doesn't need or dream of or long for.

She doesn't know how I feel about her. And she doesn't feel any of those things for me. I know that - and I push the pain of it away as she turns into me, her face just above my breast, the wet of her tears dampening my t-shirt. Soaking through, and drowning my heart. My heart that I hope doesn't beat too hard beneath her. Give me away...

Because I think I'd lose her if it did. If she knew. And that would kill me. To not see her every day. Not talk to her. Not _not_, like now.

We don't talk as I smooth the hair away from her face - her hair that feels like silk under my fingertips.

No words are spoken as they move to her battered cheeks, swiping away her liquid pain.

I won't ask her what happened. What he did... _this _time. She'll tell me. Maybe. Tomorrow. Or the next day. She'll tell me when she needs to get it out. Or never... if she needs to hold it in. But right now, all she needs is what she doesn't ask for. And what she won't. And what she doesn't have to. What I already know. Which is the same thing I need, but different.

She just needs me to hold her.

So, I will.

It's why I came when she called. Called, but didn't.

When her cries asked me for what she couldn't.

It's why.

_She's_ why.

I'll do anything.


	3. Chapter 3: Whispers in the Dark

**We'll move on in the next one, longer and farther, I promise. But for now... Angela can't sleep. **

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**Chapter Three: Whispers in the Dark**

I hate how hard this is. How much her pain hurts me. And how much I have to fight my own.

I wish I could just tell her... and _show _her. How different her life could be.

I wish she could know how beautiful she is to me. Whether she spent an hour fussing in the mirror or just rolled out of bed.

I wish that I could shower her with the sweet words that I fight to keep inside. Words I replace with soft shushes against the top of her head.

I wish that my arms that hold her now could lift her from her sadness. Pull her into a different place. A place with me. A place where I would hold her so close and so tight, and make her feel so good that she'd beg me never to let her go.

A place where her cries were of pleasure and didn't need soothed. A place where she only wanted me. Only needed me. To love her. Show her that love in every way possible.

I wish that her ragged breaths came only from my touch. My fingertips on her creamy skin, tracing every dip and angle and curve of her. Drawing a map for my mouth to follow. Study from. Learn from. For hours and days and nights that never ended. An eternity to memorize her. Memorize and make myself forget so that I could start all over again...

An ungrantable wish.

Like I could ever forget? If I felt her softness? Tasted her sweetness? Heard her melodic whimpers? No...

It wouldn't be possible. I already know.

One touch and my hands would never feel anything else.

One taste and I would starve for more. Be quenched by only her.

One plea from between her luscious lips would silence the world around her.

She would own me with one.

She would ruin me.

And I would let her.

* * *

This isn't the first time I've held her while she slept. Not the first time she cried herself to sleep in my arms. And not the first time I laid awake for hours after she did.

There's no way I could sleep. My lids, no matter how heavy, will not close. The scent of her is pummeling my every sense. Her delicate breaths are like whispers across my skin. I see them like a mist. Watch it wrap around me. And I listen to every one. Ready to give anything she could ask for. Ready, even if she asks for nothing. And unwilling to miss a single breath whether she does or she doesn't.

I feel so selfish right now. Because as much as I'm trying not to take from her, I am. As hard as I'm trying not to, I can't help the things I do.

Her breaths aren't for me. Her hair doesn't tickle my neck because it's mine to feel. Her fisted grip on the back of my t-shirt isn't what I pretend it to be.

She's asleep. She's not _giving _me anything. And she's vulnerable. And she trusts me not to take anything from her. Not to ache from the way her legs are tangled with mine. Something she did without conscious thought. It doesn't mean anything to her. Nothing but that she's comfortable with me. Feels safe enough to curl up with her best friend.

On this night that I wish would never end.


	4. Chapter 4: Almost Perfect

**We're still with Angela. Until I say otherwise.**

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**Chapter Four: Almost Perfect**

I close my eyes as Bella starts to stir. I don't want her to see me watching her sleep like some crazy, creepy stalker. And less than a moment later, she sits up in the bed and sighs. Then I think I'm asleep and dreaming, because I feel her fingers lightly stroke my hair, and hear her sweet, sleep-filled voice.

"Thank you, Angela."

It was only a whisper, and one I know I wasn't meant to hear, but my heart grabs hold of it anyway. It's something. Proof that I gave her that _something_ she needed, no matter how much I wish she needed more from me.

I keep my eyes closed as she climbs softly from the bed, trying not to wake me, not knowing I'm yet to sleep a single moment. I listen as she moves about the room, quietly opening drawers and then closing them again. It's only after I hear the click of the bedroom door that I relax and breathe normally again. Well, for the few seconds I can, because I know what the next sounds will be.

Bella's not a lay around and be lazy kind of person in the mornings. Not even on days she totally could be. And just like I knew I would, I hear another click of another door and the start of our shower. It takes a few minutes to warm up, just enough time for her to tend to the rituals of morning, brush her teeth, and strip her pajamas off. Time I spend trying to convince myself to leave this bed and her room.

Time _wasted_. Because when I hear the metal against metal of the shower curtain rings sliding along the rod I know I'm done for. Bella is naked and dripping just a few feet and two closed doors away from me. Bella, whose scent is all around me as I lie paralyzed in her bed. Imagining how beautiful she looks with water droplets cascading over her skin and her long wet hair clinging to her back. Things I shouldn't think of, but after spending the last several hours so close to her, I just can't control my brain.

My brain, or any other part of me. Without conscious thought, or a second's restraint, I'm pulled into the steam-filled room with her. Her hands become mine as I work the creamy lather slowly over every inch of her body. Her body that tenses and then melts under my touch.

Nipples harden as my tongue sweeps across my bottom lip, searching for a taste of her. Every part of me is searching... aching...

My mouth that waters for her. That longs to be the soothing warmth that rinses her cares away. My hand that slips between parted and welcoming legs. My fingers that drench themselves in syrupy, slick heat. Heat that begs them to find the source of. Hips that raise greedily as they do, forcing them deeper inside. Muscles that flex with the rocking rhythm. Smooth palm against a wet, hardened peak. And a silent scream as it tumbles over.

All belong to me. Me, who lies writhing and breathless in her bed, wishing she were... instead of only in my head.

* * *

I jumped from her bed as quickly as my legs would allow me, stripping it free of what I'd done, and willing the flush to leave me before she appeared from the bathroom. I stopped in my own room on my way down the hall, stripping my sheets as well, and then ran to the washing machine, turning it on the second the shower stopped.

The only evidence that now remained was on me, and unfortunately, she wasn't likely to get close enough to me to notice that. And even less likely to, as the heavenly smell of freshly brewing coffee filled the kitchen - coffee that's good morning Bella sets up every night while I make the rounds checking that all of our doors and windows are locked.

I've just finished washing my hands in our kitchen sink, and am splashing water on my face when I hear Bella beside me, placing two coffee mugs on the blue and white tiled countertop. The blue and white tiled countertop I absolutely hated until Bella jumped up to sit on it one night - in her tiny little pajama shorts - talking to me while I cleaned up our late night banana split splurge mess, and I saw the creamy white of her thighs rested on the vibrant blue. I loved it from that moment, and have dreamed a million times of those creamy white thighs spread open on top of it while I buried my face between them - a _Bella _split splurge - that I would give anything to see the mess from, not that I'd waste a drop of it...

_Jesus, Angela... get a grip. And _not on her thighs!

Her thighs that I can see nearly all of, because she's wearing only a pair of white cotton boy shorts and nothing else. Well... nothing else but a long sleeved, fitted gray tee, which I only notice because I look up at her as she speaks to me.

"You could have come in the bathroom. I go in when you're in the shower all of the time."

I know she does. But for obvious reasons, I resist following her lead. It couldn't possibly end well. Though, I suppose that all depends on how you look at it...

_Hurry up and pour the coffee, Bella, before my mouth decides to drink _you_. God, she's so perfect..._

"That's okay," I say and clear my throat, "I wanted a cold splash of water, and doing that in there might have scalded you. You know how temperamental our plumbing can be sometimes."

"True. Well, it's all yours now, though I know you want to drink your first cup of coffee first. Or first _five_. I'm so sorry, Angela... I must have kept you awake half of the night with my neediness. You look completely exhausted and worn out."

_I'd give up sleep forever for you. And be exhausted and worn out..._ "Not at all. I'm fine, and your coffee will surely fix whatever part of me isn't. And you are the _least _needy person I know, Bella."

"That's not at all true, but I love you for saying it. And because you're the best friend this needy girl could ever have. Thank you for last night."

"You don't have to thank me for that, Bella, _ever_. I'm always here for you."

"I think I do. In a variety of ways, one of which is cooking you breakfast. I was thinking blueberry pancakes? With powdered sugar on top?"

_Or you..._ "You know your blueberry pancakes are my favorite. I couldn't say no to those if my life depended on it."

"I know." Her smile leaves no doubt that she does, and that she knows nothing of my other weaknesses, all of which are her. She sure as hell wouldn't be cooking me breakfast in her underwear if she did. "Now, sit down, enjoy your coffee, and let me spoil you."

I do as I'm told, and sit - maybe even after a very girly squeal - because frankly, I'd follow any order she gave me, with the exuberance of a child on Christmas morning.

"So, what are you doing today?" she asks as she bends to get the blueberries from the bottom shelf of the refrigerator.

_Dying a slow, beautiful death..._ "Um... nothing really. I don't think."

"No plans with Eric?"

Eric is my 'boyfriend' - a term I use very loosely, although literally may be more accurate... boy... friend... "He mentioned something about a movie, and grabbing a bite to eat, but nothing definite. What about you?"

"I was thinking about going home for the weekend. Get away from _things _for a day or two."

Home, for both of us, is Forks, Washington, a small town roughly three hours west of _here_, where we both chose to attend school at The Art Institute of Seattle. Bella studies Culinary Arts, and I study Photography, the only things we've ever really been interested in, besides sticking together.

The thought of two days without Bella is gut wrenching, but getting her away from Edward Cullen for those same two days isn't, so I can only be supportive about her tentative plans for the weekend.

"Sounds like a good idea."

"Yeah... and if you didn't have plans, I was going to ask if you wanted to go with?"

"Oh... well, normally I'd say sure, but I know my mom is away visiting a friend who's been sick, and my dad was taking my little brothers camping for the weekend... it seems kind of pointless to go home when no one is there. Unless you don't want to make the drive alone? I could find something to do for a day and a half. Catch up on some reading, if nothing else."

"You could just stay with me? You know Charlie loves you, and besides... being alone with me for a day and a half will just make him... What's the word I'm looking for? _Nervous_."

We both laugh, because Bella's dad is great, but you can always almost see him silently cringing behind his loving smile. Even though he always says he misses her, 'quiet time alone' with his daughter for any extended amount of time, for Charlie, is like nails on a chalkboard.

"Then, road trip home it is, for the sanity of Charlie Swan!"

And the pure delight of _me_, as long as I can keep Bella from singing in the car...

* * *

Four and a half hours later, and with bleeding ears - I'll never get Party in the USA out of my head - we pull in to the driveway of Charlie and Bella's house. The driveway that's _empty_.

"Fishing or working?" I ask, as she scrunches her mouth.

"I'm sure he said he was off, so fishing, probably."

"He knew you were coming home, right?"

"No."

"No? You didn't tell him?"

"No, I just figured I'd surprise him."

"Have you talked to him since Tuesday night when he called?"

"Huh uh."

"Of course you haven't," I laugh, because only Bella would drive three plus hours without making any plans at all, or making sure the person she was driving that three plus hours to visit would even be home.

But whether she did or she didn't, and whether he is or he isn't, we're here; we, with a capital W E - which means Bella is three plus hours away from tall, bronze, and detrimental. And that...

Sounds like the perfect weekend to me.

Well...

Almost.

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**Have a great Sunday! See you next week. Ish.**


	5. Chapter 5: Nightmare

**First, I want to say thank you to those reading. I'll get to replies as soon as I can. Now, we'll hear a little from Bella in this chapter, so I'll start listing the pov at the top as it changes. And it's shorter than I planned, but it's where it told me to stop. The chapters _will_ get longer, so I hope the brevity of them isn't too annoying right now. **

**We start with Angela...**

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**Chapter Five: Nightmare**

Bella's phone rings for the fiftieth time since we left our apartment. And for the fiftieth time, I know it's not Charlie, who, five hours after we got here, still isn't home.

"I wish I could just turn it off," she says, tossing it on the table.

So do I. I wanted this to be an Edward-free weekend for her - the whole reason she came here - but he's been blowing up her phone all day. She hasn't answered a single call, and I'm really proud of her for that, but I know eventually she'll cave. She always caves. Edward has some kind of power over her, some invisible hold, that she just can't break free from.

I wish she could. That she truly wanted to enough, but I know she's not there yet.

"Your dad needs a cell phone," I sigh, glaring at hers.

"I've tried, believe me. He won't budge."

"Well, maybe after today, he'll change his mind."

"Maybe, but I doubt it. And it's really weird that he's still not home. There's a game on and everything."

"Maybe he has a girlfriend he hasn't told you about?"

"_My_ dad? No way. He'd get a cell phone before that would ever happen."

"I think he was just always careful because of you. But things are different now... You're not here. And he doesn't have to be anymore."

"I've tried to get him to date for forever, Angela. You know that. I never wanted him to give up that part of his life for me. I've always wanted him to be happy."

"Of course you have, because you love him. And when you love someone, you want them to be happy. And in turn, sometimes they make sacrifices of things they want for the ones _they _love."

"I don't want anyone to make sacrifices for me. No one should be unhappy because they love me. I'm not worth that."

_God, she's so wrong..._ "If someone loves you enough, the sacrifices are easy. So easy they become something else. And you're wrong, Bella. You're worth so much... and anyone who doesn't know that isn't worth _you_."

And as if on cue, her phone starts ringing again...

And, once again, I know it's Edward Cullen...

The person who most isn't.

* * *

**BPOV**

It's 2 am and my dad still hasn't come home. I think Angela was right...

My dad has a girlfriend. Or at least someone to cuddle up with at night. I wish he'd have told me about her, the 'something new' in his life, instead of his usual _nothing_ _is_... but I'm happy for him. Even though he didn't feel he could share it with me.

We all have secrets, I guess. Things we keep to ourselves. Things we don't tell the people that love us most, because we think they wouldn't understand, or that the knowledge would hurt them. Or make them want to hurt someone else...

It's why I don't tell my dad about Edward. He knows there _is_ an Edward, but he doesn't know how he treats me. I think he'd probably kill him if he did. And be really disappointed in me for the way I let him, even though I don't like it.

Edward doesn't hurt me... at least not intentionally. I don't think. He's just a little rough sometimes. Like when we have sex. He was gentle and sweet the first couple of times - _my _first couple of times - but then things slowly started to change. Or maybe not so slowly. He was sweet just long enough to get what he wanted from me, and just long enough for me to fall in love with him, and after that I think he figured I would just do whatever he wanted because I was.

Falling in love with Edward was easy...

_Still _loving him is not. It's hard. And hardest at times like this when I'm lying in bed thinking about him. I wasn't a few minutes ago, but I am now. Because no matter how hard I try not to think of him, my head always lets him in. My heart tells it to. I think. Because it's ruled by him. Owned and controlled by him.

And carelessly kicked around by him.

I imagine it on a string...

Sometimes I feel strong and think I can pull hard enough to take it back from him. But then he yanks on it and my strength dissolves. Reality crashes back down on me. It doesn't matter how hard I pull... I don't hold the string. _He _does. And he knows it. Doesn't hide it from me. Reminds me of it nearly every time he speaks...

_Puppet_.

It's what he calls me.

I thought it was cute at first. Got a tingly feeling inside and blushed like a silly love-struck girl whenever he said it. Was convinced it was special. Sweet. An expression of affection and adoration...

Instead of the sad, pathetic truth of what it really was. And is.

I'm his puppet.

A toy he plays with.

When he wants.

The way he wants.

And I will continue to be.

Until he decides he's finished.

I don't get to choose. To be or not. Don't get to dance my own dance on his stage, or away from it. My choreography is his. Like my heart.

And even though I pulled again... tried to make my movements my own... tried to test the length - and strength - of my strings... I know it was pointless. I'm not strong enough. To break them. Or free of him.

I feel the tug, even now as I lie in my bed. And even though I'm not alone.

My best friend is asleep beside me. The person that gives me strength. The person that would help me break free if I let her. If I just woke her up. Because she wants better for me than to be his puppet. He knows that, too. And I know it's why my phone continues to ring. Even now. While I hold it in my hand, silencing the harsh sound of him.

I know I should put it down. Turn it off. Bury it beneath my pillow and bury myself in Angela's arms. Like I did last night. I know I'd get through this one if I just did that. I know...

But I don't.

Because I can't.

"Hello?"

* * *

**APOV**

For the second night in a row, I'm sleeping in Bella's bed. Or not sleeping...

Not _now_, because she just jumped from it and out of the room. With her phone. That she answered this time.

If only I hadn't fallen asleep...

I thought she was okay. We'd laid here talking and laughing for hours, about things I hadn't thought of in years. Our summers at camp when we were kids. The summers we'd have given anything to be spending somewhere else. Outdoor sports and games were our worst nightmare. And wearing bathing suits. And then there were the bugs. The bugs were the worst! Or, at least I thought they were...

Until Bella met Edward Cullen.

I knew she was in trouble from the first moment she laid eyes on him. I'd noticed him watching her before she had. And known instantly that I didn't want him to be, or want her to see that he was.

Edward has those kind of looks that render a girl speechless. Even I can admit that. The boy is devastatingly beautiful. And charming.

At first.

Until he has you where he wants you.

Most girls are lucky enough not to get pulled in. Because he doesn't want them. And most of them are sad about that... because they're stupid. Being wanted by him is not an honor, like they think it is. It's a curse. A curse that smirked and crooked-smiled its way over Bella without mercy.

He wanted her.

And was relentless in his pursuit.

Not that he had to be...

He mistook her insecurities as a game of hard to get. Played until he won. Even though he already had, with just one look.

It didn't take him long to realize he'd been wrong. And it only made him more cocky, though you wouldn't think that would have been possible. Or that she would have been so blinded by it. So intrigued and enthralled.

Like when she turned pink when he called her _Puppet _the first time. He did it right in front of me. And then smirked at me. That's when I knew how truly wicked he was. And how clearly he saw right through me.

I wasn't fooling him. It had taken him a little time to figure Bella out... but apparently I was easier to read. An open book. To him.

And an intriguing element in the games he plays with her.

And me.

The way he gives her just enough heartache-paved road to crawl away on.

Crawl to me.

Before he yanks her back.

And dangles her just out of my grasp.

His puppet on a string.

That he knows I haven't found a way to cut loose yet.

I wish I were back at summer camp with Bella...

Hiding from games we didn't want to play.

Or huddled together wishing the creepy crawly things away.

Sleeping peacefully once we were sure we had.

Together.

With our worst nightmare at bay.

* * *

**This story has a banner now, and as soon as I figure this image editor thing out, I'll add it. Until then, if anyone wants to see it, it's on my fb - HisGirl Interrupted. lvtwilight09 made it, and I think it's beautiful. And a heads up for the next chapter... we'll probably be meeting the puppet master. Edward, of course.**

**See you soon.  
**


	6. Chapter 6: Swallowing Truth

**Had a few curve balls thrown at me, thus the delay. Sorry about that. The girls are back in Seattle. And we're back with Angela. Until Edward takes over...  
**

* * *

**Chapter Six: Swallowing Truth  
**

The tension in the car is palpable as we turn the corner onto our street and see Edward waiting outside of our building. I can't say that I'm surprised to see him there - he kept constant tabs on our ETA throughout our drive back - but I'd hoped he would at least let us get settled before he reached out for her.

But just like this morning when I woke to find Bella zipping her overnight bag closed, I know we're way past him reaching. He already has a firm grip on her. He had it the second she answered his middle-of-the-night call. And he pulled until she was right back where he wanted her - under his control, that he displays arrogantly as he pulls her from the car the second it stops.

"I missed you, Puppet," he tells her, as he pulls her against him, and I feel an instant sickness in the pit of my stomach.

The words are wrong. He doesn't mean them. Not at all.

Except for one.

That he means in the worst possible way. Like the show of tenderness he kisses her with. That I have to turn away from. Because it isn't real. And isn't pure.

And isn't me that she lets kiss her.

I could show her tenderness... _real_ tenderness, and she'd know she'd never felt it before. She'd _know_. And she'd want and need and ache for more. She'd crave it... and the one who gave it to her...

But she wouldn't have to ask for more from me. And wouldn't have to suffer wanting because she couldn't, or wouldn't. Because I'd show it to her forever. Give it to her without a word. Every moment of every day... always... until my days ran out.

But I can't.

And I wish this one would.

Because it doesn't belong to me.

And neither does she.

They both belong to him.

Because he pulled harder than me...

On our puppet.

* * *

**BPO**V

Edward's been really sweet to me since last night on the phone. And I know it's only been hours, but it feels like the beginning again. This is the Edward I fell in love with. The one who touches me gently and smiles at me warmly and says sweet things to me. The Edward who gives me butterflies with just a look. And hope with his every word.

He said he was sorry last night. It was the first thing he said to me. And even though he's said it before and didn't, I believe that he really meant it this time.

I was only gone a day, and only a few hours away, but I think the fact that I went scared him. And the fact that I didn't answer his calls for a whole day, before the one that I did when it was over.

I think it woke him up. Made him see how much he really hurt me. And made him not want to anymore. Not in any way.

We've spent the whole day together... from the moment I pulled my car up outside of our apartment and found him waiting for me. To now, when he pulls up in front of his and comes around to open my door with a sweet smile on his face. A sweet smile that sets the butterflies' wings in motion. And us, as I let him lead me to his door.

I know what will happen once we're inside. I'll give myself to him. Because I always do when we come here. And because I know he wants me to. Always. And now. But I think this time will be different. It will be like it was before it wasn't. He'll be sweet. And gentle. And make me feel special. Like he used to. And like he's done all day.

And like he does the second the door closes and we're inside and his mouth is on mine. His kiss makes my knees buckle. And him chuckle when they do.

And then I know that I was wrong...

Because the sound is cruel. And so is the way that he pushes me hard against the door, pinning me to it. "You shouldn't have run away from me, Bella."

"I wasn't... I just went home to see my dad, and-"

"And you shouldn't lie to me."

"I'm not, I-"

His hand covers my mouth and stops my heart in my chest. "You _are_. And now I'm going to show you why you shouldn't. And you're going to show me that you understand. And that you're sorry that you did. And that you never will again. That you'll _never_ run and hide from me again. And that you know your place is wherever _I_ want you, doing what _I_ want you to do."

He drops his hand from my mouth to the button of his jeans and I'm suddenly scared. I don't want to. Not like this. "Edward, please... "

"That's much better than lies, Bella. _Please_ is exactly what you should be saying to me. And now that I've heard you say it, you're going to make me _feel_ it."

"I'm sorry I didn't answer your calls. I'll never do that again, I promise, just please don't make me-"

"Get. On. Your. Knees," he orders, his tone harsh and his cock hard in his hand.

He puts his other on the top of my head when I don't immediately move, which makes me, because I know he'll be nicer if I do it willingly. He'll be more gentle, even though I know he's not going to be. Because he stopped that, too, a long time ago.

I never minded doing it, and never told him no, because I wanted to make him happy... but it was much easier to do that when he just laid back and let me. But he hardly ever does that anymore, and never when he's mad. But that doesn't stop me from trying to get him to, even though I'm already where he wanted me.

"I will... of course I will... but wouldn't you like to sit down? You'd be more comfortable on the couch or a chair, wouldn't you? I'll make you feel good. I'll make you feel better than I ever have before. I promise I will. I'll-"

"You're damn right you will, Bella. And I couldn't be more comfortable than I am now, looking down at you while you beg me for it. So, shut up and wrap that lying, begging mouth of yours around my cock where it belongs, and wants so desperately to be."

I know he'll take over soon enough, so I do what he tells me and wrap my mouth around him. And I really will try to make him feel better than I ever have before, because just maybe, if I do, he _won't_.

And for a few minutes, I think I've accomplished that. His hands are twisted into my hair, but they're gentle, not rough or pulling. And his mouth is telling me he's happy, his moans and his words thankful and appreciative and encouraging.

"That feels so good, baby. You're a good little puppet.. with a good little mouth..."

But then I feel the first twist. And his voice changes. Gets harder, like he does in my mouth, which I wouldn't have thought was possible. "But you did a bad thing... "

I suck him harder... and faster - the way I know he likes it - and moan gratefully while I do, hoping to distract him from wanting to punish me... but it seems to have the opposite effect on him. It only makes him twist his fingers in my hair more roughly, and his cock more impatient with my movements.

He starts to thrust into my mouth, harder and faster and deeper than I was taking him. "And I have to teach you a lesson. And _believe_ that you've learned it."

I've never been with anyone else, and have certainly never had any other boy's cock in my mouth, but I know that Edward is big, and no matter how hard I try, I've never been able to take all of him.

He was patient and understanding about that for a while, and I think he even took it as a compliment - a stroke to his ego - but he doesn't anymore. And doesn't have mercy on me now as he pounds into the back of my throat so hard that my head bounces painfully and repeatedly against the door behind me.

It's precisely why I didn't want to do this here, or this way - or at all, really - but I know that it's probably exactly why he did. Not because I think he wants to hurt me, because I don't think his actions are that malicious, but I do think he gets some kind of satisfaction by showing me that he _can_. And in this moment, that I could stop him if I wanted to. If I tried harder to make him happy.

And that's exactly what I do, with tears in my eyes, as I steel myself against the door and firmly grip his hips as he punishingly and relentlessly fucks my mouth. My willingness has pleased him, I know this, but it doesn't make him let up. He pounds harder and faster and deeper than ever before, stilling when he's as far as he can go, and then grinds his hips against my face, that he pulls against him, burying his cock even impossibly deeper in my throat.

I don't know how I don't gag, or choke, but I manage not to do either, and don't move, other than my arms, that I wrap tightly around him in hope...

The gesture excites him, bringing a deep "Fuck!" from his mouth and another burrowing thrust from his hips, but I think it also throws him off guard for a few seconds, because he loosens his grip on my hair with one hand and cups it around the back of my head, cushioning it from the hard door.

"Look at me, Bella," he tells me, waiting for my eyes to meet his. "And don't let go," he says when they do, and resumes his earlier punishing pace, his eyes moving back and forth from mine to his cock moving in his chosen rhythm between my lips.

He never warns me when he's going to come... doesn't announce it like I've heard other girls laugh about guys doing, but I've learned to be ready, and am not surprised at all when he explodes hot and hard into my mouth - the only place he ever wants to besides inside of me.

And I'm grateful for that - even though it tastes terrible - because Angela and I have a friend whose boyfriend is obsessed with shooting his cum all over her face after she sucks him off. I know the way Edward treats me isn't exactly sweet, but I think that would be worse than anything he does to me, or ever would do. And I know he wouldn't. If for no other reason than he'd think it was a waste...

And he'd never let himself be wasted. Not a drop.

"Swallow it, Bella. Every fucking bit of it. And then show me your empty mouth."

I do what he says, gladly - though painfully - because I hate the way he makes me hold it in my mouth before he lets me, and he gives me a cocky smile and strokes my hair. "Good puppet. And lucky for you that you are. And that you made me believe you're sorry for when you weren't... because I was going to take you home. To punish you for keeping me up worrying about you last night... but you did so good I changed my mind. And I'm going to let you stay here with me tonight. So you can keep making me believe... until I forget that I didn't."

I swallow painfully again and bite my swollen lip as he pulls me to my feet and turns me around, smacking me hard on the ass. "Now, go get me a beer, and something for yourself. Then come back and sit with me for a bit. It's going to be a long, wonderful night. One that I promise _you'll_ never forget."


	7. Chapter 7: Loved

**Chapter Seven: Loved  
**

* * *

**BPOV  
**

My head is pounding when Edward drops me off. My head, and every other part of me... because I _was_ pounded. By him. And his words.

Words he knew backfired on him, after he said them.

He thought he could scare me with them... freak me out... maybe even disgust me... and by doing so, gain more control of me.

But he was wrong. He did none of those things. Not until he did the things he did when he realized he hadn't.

_That_ scared me. And hurt me. _Those_ things... not the words he said.

And this time...

I think it was all enough.

* * *

**APOV**

Bella looks exhausted when she comes through the door. Like she hasn't slept at all. And she's walking funny - too slow and measured. Like she took a pounding - which I don't doubt for a second is exactly what kept her from sleep. _That fucking asshole... He probably brought her home on that damn motorcycle on purpose, just to make her suffer even more. _

I've never hated anyone as much as I hate him right now.

But that hatred is multiplied by a billion when she speaks... "Good morning" … and I hear the hoarseness of her voice. And see the pain the two simple words caused her.

"Morning, sweetie," I say, not concealing my own, as I jump up from the couch, where I was sitting with my coffee and a book. I help her out of her jacket and toss it on a nearby chair. "What can I do?"

She gives me a small smile, but shakes her head, avoiding my eyes. "Nothing."

She's so wrong about that. There are things I could do... would love to do... to ease her pain. Soothe her tired and battered body...

But it's not what I offer, of course. "How about a nice warm bubble bath? I'll run it for you. And then make you a cool, creamy breakfast shake to sip while you soak. What do you think? Would you like that?"

She chews her lip for a moment, struggling to fight back tears, I think, but then looks up at me, her eyes clear. And maybe even determined, as she slowly nods her head.

I grab her hand, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze, and then walk away, before my own tears can break free. And because maybe hers need to, and I won't force her to share them with me. Not until she's ready.

I head to the bathroom and turn on the faucet over the bathtub, and wait for our slower-than-molasses hot water heater to kick in, and then adjust it from the scalding hot water that pours out when it does, and let it fill. I grab a clean towel from the cabinet while I wait, and her bathrobe from her bedroom, and plead with my brain to think of more ways to comfort her.

It fights me - or another part of me does - because it can only think of one thing. And I slap myself, hard, because it's the last thing I should be thinking about right now. Even though it would probably make her feel the best...

_God, I hate myself sometimes... STOP IT! Slap!Slap!Slap!_

"Angela?" Bella's small, scratchy voice calls softly from the doorway behind me.

_Way to go, you horny psycho... _"All set," I say sweetly - and in a voice _way_ too high - and turn off the tap. "Your towel and robe is here, and now I'm off to the blender. Just yell if you need-" _Shit. _"Bang the bottle of shampoo on the tile or something if you need anything. Okay? I'll come running."

She gives me another small smile - one that says _I love you, but you're weird_, I think - and I leave the bathroom and head to the kitchen.

I peel and cut up a banana, and some strawberries, and add them to the waiting blender with the milk, ice, and vanilla ice cream. I add a few splashes of orange juice and blend everything creamy smooth and take a taste. It's good and I know she'll like it, so I pour it into a big styrofoam cup - a package of which, along with lids and straws, I always make sure we have in the apartment - because she likes them, and says cold things just taste better in them.

It's a small thing, a cold drink in a styrofoam cup... but it makes her smile every time I put one in her hand or in front of her. And there's nothing I wouldn't do to make Bella smile, no matter how big or small the action.

I frown as I snap the plastic lid on the cup and pop the straw through the hole. The last thing she should have to do right now is wrap her lips around anything and suck...

But at least what I have to give her is for _her_, and not for my own selfish and punishing gratification. Or anyone else's.

It's all I could ever give her. Something for her. Nothing could be more gratifying to me than making _her _happy. Making _her _feel good. And the only sore throat she'd ever get from me would be from screaming herself hoarse from the pleasure I'd smother her with. _And myself... I'd give anything to be smothered by her..._

There I go again... God forbid I could get my thoughts under control. But it's really hard to do that when I'm currently walking down the hallway towards where I know she sits completely and deliciously naked and covered in bubbles in our bathtub. I mean, really... I'm only human. And every beat of my human heart is for her. Like everything else would be, if she'd let me give it to her.

I knock on the door to the bathroom - to give her what she _will _let me - and after a second or two, hear her small croak of a "Come in."

And when I do, I instantly see what I _didn't _give her.

I. Forgot. The bubbles.

And to breathe for about 30 seconds.

Or was it 30 years?...

Because she's lying back against the foot of the tub wall with with her perfect breasts half immersed and half not by the clear water, her small, sweetly inviting nipples skimming the surface, and her legs forming a perfect v as they rest open against the sides of the white porcelain.

"I'm so sorry... " I say, though I'm surprised I can speak at all. "I forgot your bubbles."

She looks at me for a moment before she speaks, all but whispering when she does, "It's okay... I didn't need them. Though you're probably scarred for life now... " It's what she says, but she makes no movement to cover herself.

It surprises me, but not as much as her words, which are front and center in my mind, like she is before me. _Scarred_ _for_ _life? Is she crazy? My eyes have never seen a more beautiful sight. _

Or tried harder to look away from one. "Shush. And hurry up and swoon over my breakfast like I do every morning over yours, because I'm not leaving you alone until you do." _And because I just can't yet..._

She takes the cup from my hand with a smile and takes a sip, swallowing slowly. "It's yummy. And perfect. Thank you. You're so good to me... "

_I would be. So much better than he is. _"You're welcome. And I'm really sorry, again, about the bubbles." _And not at all. _"Is there anything else I can get you?"

She shakes her head - to both, I think - the straw again between her lips, her mind seemingly elsewhere suddenly, so I turn and leave the room, closing the door behind me. And then my eyes as I lean against it for a moment, knowing that I've seen perfection...

And that if I don't do something soon, Edward Cullen is going to destroy it.

* * *

There's a knock at the door just as I hear Bella turn on the shower, probably to wash her hair. When I open it, I see Kate, one of Bella's fellow Culinary classmates, and one of our neighbors in the building. "Hi, Angela. I just wanted to let Bella know that our 12:00 class was canceled, if she hadn't heard already. The instructor had some sort of emergency or something... canceled everything for the day."

"Oh. I don't think she knows, so thanks for the heads up."

"Sure thing. And now that I know I don't have to be responsible today, I'm going back to bed. See ya later."

"Sweet dreams," I tell her with a smile, because Mondays are class-free for me, and usually spent alone, and now I know that Bella will be home all afternoon, too. And because she'll be able to get some rest.

I pop my head in the bathroom to let her know that the day is her own, and then get a fresh cup of coffee and settle back into position on the couch with my book. Not that I'll be able to concentrate on the words on the page...

But I'll try. Because I expect that, now that she can, Bella will go straight to bed, and I don't want to do anything around the apartment to make noise and disturb her sleep. I'll probably even run down to Eric's - yes, he lives in the apartment downstairs - to shower once she crashes.

But ten minutes later when I hear the bathroom door open, I _don't_ hear Bella's bedroom door close after. Instead, she appears in front of me in the living room in her robe, and then comes to sit down beside me on the couch - so gingerly that it makes my teeth clench.

"Feel a little better?" I ask her, the only words I trust my mouth with at the moment.

She runs her fingertip along the wide teeth of the comb in her hand and leaves my question unanswered, asking one of her own instead. "Would you help me?"

I want to say yes. I want to _scream_ yes...

But to a question she didn't ask. More than one, if I'm being honest, but I keep my mouth closed, saying or screaming nothing, and simply take the comb from her hands. Because that's all she was asking me for. Help with a tangled mess, but only the one on the top of her head.

I feel her eyes on me as I start to work as gently as I can through the wet mass of knots in her hair, knowing they were put there by him and his anything-but-gentle-with-her hands. I force myself to keep my mouth shut about that, and smile as I meet her gaze, because no matter how I'm feeling inside, my mouth could never give her anything but kindness. Especially not now, when I know she's probably had none since he dragged her away from me yesterday.

She smiles back at me, but doesn't say anything, even though something in her eyes tells me she wants to.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" I ask her, and she shakes her head, her eyes still trained on my face.

A few minutes pass, and I'm through one side of her hair, but her eyes still haven't moved. "Do you want to ask me something?" I ask her, "Or tell me something? Because you can. You know that, right? You can say anything to me."

"Yes. Do you?" she asks.

"Do I what, sweetie?"

"Know that _you_ can say anything to _me_?"

_Uhhh... _"You're my best friend, of course I do." _ I just don't because I want it to stay that way._

"Then why don't you?"

_Well, at least I know she can't hear my thoughts... _"I do. Turn, please. So I can get the back."

"No you don't," she says quietly, but turns so I can't see her expression as she does.

I let out a deep breath and start on the back of her hair. "Sometimes you don't need to hear what I'm thinking. You already know."

"I'm not talking about Edward."

"You're not?"

"No. I know how you feel about him."

"Bella, you know how I feel about everything... " _Almost... _"And other than about _him_, I'm an open spout."

"Are you in love with Eric?"

_Where did that come from? _"No. And I'm pretty sure you know that already."

"Yeah... Are you in love with _me_?"

_What? _The comb stills in my hand for a few seconds, but I recover quickly. _I had to have heard that wrong... _"You know I love you, silly."

"Yes, I do, but that's not what I asked you. Are you _in_ love with me?"

_Or not. Fuck!_

She turns when I don't answer and my hands fall to my lap as she looks at me.

She's serious. She's really asking me this.

And waiting for an answer.

But what can I possibly say? When I know the truth will upset her? And..

_God, I don't even want to think about what that will lead to... _

"Bella... I don't understand what-"

"Edward told me that you're in love with me. Last night."

He_ what_?

"I was crying... and begging him to stop... to be more gentle...

"Afterwards, he said if I wanted gentle, I should go home to my girlfriend. Or the person who wanted to be...

"That you're in love with me... and that I was stupid because I didn't know it...

"That even Eric knew it... but that he's too in love with you to care...

"And the whole time I was just thinking he was messing with my head... thinking it would upset me or freak me out or something... but-"

"But what?" I barely hear myself ask the words over the pounding of my heart. _I hate him so much..._

"But then I started seeing your face... in my mind... _really_ seeing it...

"Looks I never noticed... or understood the meaning of.

"How much it hurts you when he hurts me...

"How hard you try to take that hurt away...

"The things that you do for me...

"Little things... things I never paid enough attention to... or realized the sweetness of... the selflessness of...

"Until _today_. When you jumped up to take care of me the second I walked through the door. Which wasn't new, or different, not by itself...

"And isn't at all... for _you_... but for me...

"I wasn't focused on it when I first came in... because Edward saw that I was last night and spent every moment after making sure I couldn't anymore...

"But when I got into that bath - that you forgot to put the bubbles in - all I could think about was you again. And then you knocked on the door...

"And I said _Come in_, because I thought then maybe I'd see if what he said was really true. And I think I did... see...

"Because even though you tried to hide it, I saw your eyes before you could. I saw the way you looked at me... the love-filled want that poured from every part of you. I _saw_ it, Angela. It was a second, but I saw it."

"Bella, I... "

"_Are_ you in love with me? I need to know."

"Yes," I whisper, a tear falling hard to my cheek, as if wanting to chase the word away. But I know it's too late... I said it. And she heard it. The thing she hoped I wouldn't say... And the thing I apparently can't stop saying, now that I have. And have nothing else to lose. "_Yes_. I'm in love with you. I ache with it every time I look at you. You... who I would do anything for... and give anything to... everything...

"I'm so in love with you I can't think straight. Can't think at all... about anything _but_ you. Every minute of every day. You're the first thing I think about in the morning. And the last thing I think of at night. And then you still don't give me peace, because I dream about you when I sleep. Your beautiful face... your soft voice... the smell of your hair... the sound of your laughter - that comes to me from my memories, because I haven't heard it in so long...

"And I'm grateful that it does, because I miss it. I miss it so much... you _happy_. Light in your beautiful eyes instead of tears. Excitement instead of dread and fear. Hope instead of defeat. The _you_ that you used to be... before him. Before he took you away. The girl I loved so much...

"The-"

"Loved?" she asks, pushing herself to her feet and taking a step back.

"What?" I realize as I look up at her that she never got up or moved away from me until this moment. And that word.

_Loved_...

Past, not present. Then, not now. Though it's both... all...

But that's not what she heard.

Is it even possible that she wanted to hear something else? The now and the present? That I already said, but...

"You said _loved_. Does that mean that you did, but you don't anymore? You _were_ in love with me, but you aren't now?"

"No. It doesn't mean that at all, Bella. I _am_ in love with you. But I... I'm confused... You don't hate me for saying it? Or for feeling it? Ever?"

"I said I _saw_ the way you looked at me, Angela... not that I didn't like it."

"You... _liked_ it?" _Surely I'm hearing things..._

"Yes."

"_Yes_?" I ask, though I know I heard her clear this time.

"_Yes_," she repeats, "Is that not okay? Did you want me not to? Or to hate you?"

"No. God, no. I just thought... if you ever found out... that you would... "

"I could never hate you. For any reason. But never for loving me."

"I... I don't know what to say. I... "

"You could tell me again."

"You _want_ to hear it?"

"Yes."

"I think this is another one of those dreams I have. The ones about you... that seem so vivid... so real... but then I wake up."

"No. It's not a dream. I swear."

"Prove it. Pinch me."

She bites her lip and steps in front of me. "I don't want to. Pinches hurt. But... if you say it again... let me hear it again... I _will_ prove to you that you're not dreaming. I promise."

"Bella... are you-"

"Please, Angela? I really want to hear you say it again."

I said she'd never have to ask me for anything... that I'd give her everything without a word... and I meant it. No matter what it means to her... or doesn't.

I don't expect anything. And I know that this just might be something she needs right now. To know that she's loved. To hear the words from someone that means them. Someone that will give them without asking for anything. Someone that would never hurt her... never in any way...

Someone she trusts enough to ask for them from. To ask for anything...

Something she never does. But that I realize now isn't quite true...

She asks _me_. Even if she doesn't say the words out loud. She does. And she just did...

"I love you. And I'm in love with you. All of you. Completely. Then, now, and forever, Bella. For as long as you'll let me be a part of your life. And even if you don't. I _love_ you."

She bites her lip again. And tears form in her eyes. And then she nods her head, and reaches for my hand. I let her pull the comb I didn't even realize I was still holding from my hand, and watch as she tosses it on the coffee table, and replaces it with her own.

She smiles sweetly, and I suck in a breath as she leans down and kisses my cheek. "Come with me," she whispers, and pulls me up from the couch.

I don't know where she's taking me, but I'll go anywhere she wants to go. Do anything she wants. Be anything she needs me to be.

My heart pounds harder in my chest as she crosses the threshold of her bedroom, and I hate myself for it. She hasn't slept... or barely has, at most. I'm sure she just wants to close her tired eyes. And maybe be held... by someone who loves her, when she does. It's nothing more than that. Certainly nothing like what my mind is pummeling me with...

Refuses to stop pummeling me with as she climbs onto her bed and lets go of my hand, before lying down in the middle of it and looking up at me.

I can't take my eyes from her face... the tears still welled in her eyes... the need for something I don't yet understand. And I hate myself even more for that, because whatever it is, I want to give it to her. Without her having to ask.

"I'm sorry," I tell her softly, "I don't know what you want me to do. Do you want me to sit here with you until you fall asleep?"

She shakes her head and I follow her eyes as they look down. Her hands move from the bed to her robe and the bow tied at her waist. I stare in shock as she pulls the ends... untying it and slowly opening it, revealing her perfect, naked body beneath.

"Will you show me?" she asks, her voice soft and sweet. "Show me how it feels to be loved? I've never felt that before. I want so much to feel it... instead of... "

My heart constricts painfully at her words, the ones she said and the ones she couldn't bear to. And the ones I can't resist, even though I know I should.

I can't tell her no. I can only pray she doesn't regret this.

And _start_ praying as I climb slowly onto the bed.

A prayer that stops as I hear her intake of breath as my eyes move freely over every inch of her. I don't have to hide it now. The want I feel for her. She doesn't want me to. And doesn't want me to miss anything... because she sits up and pushes her robe off of her shoulders and down her arms, anticipation bright in her eyes.

She falls back down against the pillows and I pull it from where it still lies under her, tossing it to the side, and making her smile. She really and truly wants this... I have no doubts now...

She wants to be loved.

Adored.

Wanted

And pleasured...

_Worshiped_.

By me.

Who will do it gladly. And gratefully. And selflessly.

For as long as she'll let me.

"I wish you knew how beautiful you are, Bella."

"Show me," she says again, the words breathless as they flow from her mouth.

I climb over her, and sweep her hair away from her face, wanting to see all of it. Kiss all of it. And show her how beautiful she is to me. I kiss her forehead, her temples, her eyes - that she closes only long enough so that I can before she opens them again, wide and watching - as I kiss her nose, her cheeks, her chin... and then her lips. Softly. And gently. My tongue only slipping out to sweep over them, nothing more, before my lips continue over her. Down her neck and across her shoulders... my tongue tracing her collarbones, because to kiss them wasn't enough. For either of us, I don't think.

I move next to her arms... kissing down every inch of each until I reach the palms of her hands, then kiss each delicate fingertip - which makes her giggle so adorably I nearly cry - before moving back up.

I stop, just long enough to look at her, and make sure she still wants this, and she reassures me with a smile and an anxious, pleading nod of her head.

And I answer it without a second of hesitation, my mouth kissing a trail between her breasts, then languishing one with kisses and slow, adoring licks as I gently tease the nipple of her other with my fingers.

I'm mesmerized by her face... her mouth is open, and her breaths flow raggedly sweet from it, encouraging me not to stop. As if I could...

I want to devour her. Know the taste and texture of every part of her. And want her to know the same of my lips and tongue on each of them, and never want them to leave her. Like I know she doesn't now, as I pull her nipple into my mouth and suck lovingly, making her moan and her back arch.

Her hands move to cup my face, the first time I've felt her touch, and I can't help but smile as she guides my mouth to her other breast, practically feeding her nipple to my willing mouth. She moans again as I begin to suck and her hands move into my hair. I can feel her growing need, both in her grip and in her trembling body beneath my mouth.

She wanted to be loved and adored, but as she pushes me lower, I know that she's getting anxious for more... for something I know she's never felt. And never asked for. Not from him, who never chose to give it to her, and probably would have denied her if she had.

But she knows she won't be denied now, and isn't shy about making her want known. "Please..." she cries as she tries to pull her legs from under me, "Please love me."

Her words make my mouth water, even more than it already is, and I raise up so she can free herself. She does, opening her legs wide before me, and guiding me down to her with a frenzy.

I've dreamed of this moment for so long... the moment I would get to taste her sweetness on my tongue... but what I see takes the breath from my lungs. I see the want... it glistens, wet and ready to be worshiped, but it's not all I see. Her smooth, delicate skin is red... and swollen... and looks nothing less than battered, I know by his greed.

I want to take it away. Swipe the memory of him from her mind and body. _Gently_.

I blow lightly on the ravaged skin, wanting to soothe it, as my hands tenderly move up and down her thighs in a loving massage. Her breathing gets more ragged, and she lifts herself slightly to me - an unspoken plea. But I don't rush. I place soft kisses against her swollen lips, and between, and below, on every part of her that mine can reach.

Maybe I'll have another chance... to bury myself in her... the way I want to... smother myself with her... or maybe I won't, but I won't let the fear of not make me greedy. I don't want to hurt her, and won't where he already has. My tongue aches for her taste, but I won't let it consume me.

Her hands tighten in my hair, another plea, and she lifts herself again to my mouth. My tongue slips out slowly... answering her, and making her whimper as I get my first taste, and she gets her first feeling of _being_.

Our moans join together in the air, whispers of pleasure and pleas for more... from both of our mouths. We're both being fed... our needs met... fulfilled... and _surpassed_... with every lick of her warm, sweet flesh. I'm giving her what she wanted... ached for... but she's giving it to me, too, by letting me. And making me... her grip in my hair desperate and forceful, as if she's trying to push her entire being between my open lips to be cradled by the love of my tongue for her.

She knows that she's loved now. Knows how selflessly it can be shown and given to her. And knows that it's hers to keep for as long as she wants, as her legs wrap around my neck, holding me tightly to her... like she _never_ wants to let go.

I wrap my arms around her, and my mouth, and hold her... love her with both... until she comes apart for me... and by me... and her strings break... at least for this moment...

When her awed breath is nothing but the sound of _my_ name.


	8. Chapter 8: Instead

**Anyone still here? I hope so... and I really could have used some back up the last few days, GDocs was holding this hostage. I think maybe Edward was in on it, since he won't be heard from again. Again in _this_ chapter, I mean. Trust me, we haven't seen or heard the last of him. But for now, we'll hear from Angela first.**

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Instead  
**

Bella fell asleep in my arms again. But this time, it was the way I so long dreamed that she would. Happy, instead of sad or upset. With cheeks flushed instead of eyes red. And breathless... from me instead of him. From pleasure instead of pain.

I could lay here all day. Watching her. Feeling her. Reliving her...

The her that she gave me. Asked me to take. And love.

But I don't.

Because she's not consciously giving now. Not asking me to take now. Or to love. She's silent. Her eyes. Her mouth. _Her_.

And _that _her isn't mine. And maybe never will be. I can't let myself get carried away. Or think that what just happened means everything has changed. I know that it hasn't.

No matter how much I wish that it had.

* * *

"Need some help in there?"

Maybe I should have taken my chances on not waking Bella and showered in our apartment. Why is he home already? "No thanks, I got it."

"It'd be more fun if you let _me _get it."

_For you, maybe... _"Maybe next time. Why are you out of class so early?"

"It's not early. I'm out of class the same time I always am. The only thing different today is that I don't usually come home from class and find my girlfriend naked in my bathroom."

I shut off the water and dry off, wrapping the towel tightly around myself before I open the shower curtain. "Bella's taking a nap, and I hadn't showered yet. I was just trying not to wake her. Sorry."

"What are you sorry for? I like coming home and finding you naked. And if you drop that towel, I'll prove it." He wiggles his tongue at me and I laugh, but not the way I usually do.

Before today I'd have gladly let him. Gladly and selfishly. Eric adores me, and is very generous about showing me that. And quite talented with that tongue of his...

But after what I just did, I can't let him.

"Rain check?" I ask, wrapping my arms around myself.

"Sure... What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just have a lot of things on my mind."

"Like what? Because they must be major things if you're saying no to your favorite thing."

_He does know me... _"No, nothing. Just things. And I have some things to do. Can I get dressed?"

"Of course."

"Alone?"

"Uh... yeah. Sorry." I know that he knows something is up, and he closes the door with a nervous look in his eyes.

I think about what Bella said as I dress. Was what Edward told her true? Does he know? I never thought that he did, but is that because I was too caught up in my own feelings to notice?

I know I haven't been very fair to Eric... I don't feel the way about him that he feels about me. He's completely in love with me, and while I do care about him, it's not at all the same.

We've talked about it; I've been as honest as I could be - or tried to be - without disclosing my feelings for Bella, and considering he just didn't want to hear any of it at all. Because he's hopeful, and believes my heart just needs time to catch up with his. Or so I thought. That's what he _said_, at least.

And I always felt bad about that, knowing that he was wrong. That my heart would never catch up. Never meet his. Never be free to love him back. Because it wasn't mine. Because it's hers, and she fills it. But now... if he does know... if he's always known... and chooses to be with me _with _that knowledge...

Then, do I really have anything to feel bad about? If he takes what he can get, knowing there will never be more? That he'll never have what he truly wants because we don't want the same thing?

I can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of that. Because we do want the same thing. Someone who is in love with someone else.

He's no different than I am. And the moments he spends with me are no different than the ones I spent with Bella today. Taking what I could get. And giving her what she'd let me. Knowing she probably wished it was _him _instead. Maybe. She said _my_ name...

No, it's probably. Maybe is just me wishing.

It's a hard reality to accept. And it's been for a long time, but I know I made it harder on myself today. I'll only want her more now. Crave her more desperately. Now that I know what she feels like. And tastes like. And know how deeply she _wanted _to be felt. And craved. And tasted. And loved.

She wanted it enough to ask.

And all I can think now...

Is that I hope she asks again. Or doesn't, because she knows she doesn't have to.

The same way I never have, from that boy who waits somewhere outside of this door, probably hoping the same thing. There's no maybe about that.

* * *

**BPOV**

Angela isn't next to me when I wake up. But she's here. My skin still tingles with her. And aches _for _her.

Does she ache for me? Wherever she is?

Is she thinking about me? Like I am about her?

Would it make her smile to know my first conscious thought when I opened my eyes was of her?

I don't know why I did what I did today... I just know that I wanted to. And needed to. And needed her to.

And know that if she were here now, I'd want her to again. And know that I do, even though she isn't.

And I know that she would.

Is it selfish of me to know that? And to love that I do? And to want to? And it?

Is that what Edward does with me? Is it the same? Am I? As him?

I don't think so. I don't want to hurt her. Or control her. Or use the love she feels for me to do either.

I just want to feel it. The beauty and depth of it. The kindness. And the awe.

Like I did today. I felt it all. And some of my own. Awe. That anything could feel so good.

Edward has made me feel good... but not like that. Never like that. Like she did. And like I knew through every glorious second of it that she wanted to.

The person I've loved all of my life is in love with me. And I never knew it...

But now that I do...

I know I never want to forget.

And never... ever... want her not to be.

I never want to go back to the way it was. The us that we were that I thought was perfect. The just instead of the more.

I like the more. The knowing it and being it. And the _feeling_ of it...

That didn't leave me while I slept.

And greeted me sweetly when I woke, even though she didn't.

She _did_.

And I want it.

I want to be loved.

Instead.

* * *

I'm in the kitchen mixing cupcake batter when I hear a knock at our door. I really hope Edward didn't somehow get wind of my schedule change today, I don't want to deal with him right now.

But Edward is not who stands on the other side of the door when I open it. "Hi, Eric. Angela's not home... "

"Hi, Bella. I know she's out. Can I come in though? And talk to you?"

Talk to_ me_? "Uh... sure. But we'll have to talk in the kitchen, I'm in the middle of cupcakes."

"No problem. And if there are any beaters to be licked, I'm your man. Just putting that out there."

"Gotcha."

He follows me to the kitchen and I resume my mixing. "So, what's up? Is something wrong?"

"Wrong? Well, I suppose that depends on how you look at it. Or from whose perspective."

"You're going to have to elaborate."_ Though I'm not sure I want you to. _

He couldn't possibly know? Right? Unless she told him...

Did she tell him? God, I hope not. But if she did, I really hope she comes home soon. Like now.

"You know, I haven't really seen her for days. Angela. The end of last week was hectic for me, and then you guys went home for the weekend...

"We hung out last night, but she was tired."

"That was my fault. I kept her up with my... well, we're both better now, I think. Rested, I mean."

I can feel him staring at me, but I pretend that I don't. I smile as I hand him a beater, and then look away again, focusing on the pans in front of me.

"That's good. That you're both rested. Yeah... You know I love her, right?"

I really don't like where this is going. "Yes, I know."

"I'd do anything for her. To make her happy."

"She's lucky to have you."

"I'm glad you think that. I think so, too."

I slide the cupcakes into the oven and wait for him to say something else, but he just stands there looking at me.

It's awkward and uncomfortable, something I've never really felt around Eric before. But I guess that's because I didn't know before what I know now. That the girl he loves, would do anything for, is in love with me.

And I know by the way he's looking at me that Edward was telling the truth. He knows. Or knew...

And at this moment I'm pretty sure he's standing here trying to figure out if there's anything new he should know now.

I don't think she told him anything at all, I think he just senses a change. Because he loves her that much.

Does he expect me to confirm it? Is that what he's waiting for? _Me_ to say something? Give him an answer to a question he can't bear to ask?

"You know, don't you?" he asks, breaking the awkward silence. "Now? How she feels about you?"

"What? How she feels about me?"

"Yes. How she _feels_ about you."

"Eric... I don't-"

"You do. I can see it."

Okay, so feigning innocence and cluelessness isn't going to work. "This is a conversation you should be having with her. I-"

"I disagree, Bella. Because how she feels about you isn't new. You _knowing_ about those feelings is. So, you're exactly the person I should be having this conversation with."

"This is between the two of you... "

"The only thing between the two of us is you."

"That's not-"

"Something I ever thought I had to be worried about."

"Look, Eric, I'm really uncomfortable with this-"

"That's just it... you don't look uncomfortable at all. I honestly didn't think she'd ever tell you. I thought she was afraid enough of how you'd react not to. But you know now. For some reason she stopped being afraid and told you. And you _don't_ look one bit uncomfortable. You're in here putting blueberries in cupcakes for her, for fuck's sake! That's not how you were supposed to react!"

"And exactly how was I _supposed_ to react?"

"What the hell is going on in here?"

I didn't even hear Angela come in over Eric's yelling, and she asked the question just as I asked mine. But he doesn't answer either, for a moment, and just stands looking back and forth between us as she comes to stand in front of me. "Why are you yelling at her?"

"Not like this," he answers - to me - and then turns and walks away without another word.

"Are you okay?" she asks me, turning to face me and grabbing my hand.

"I'm making you cupcakes," I say, and smile... just as our front door slams.

Because no matter what happened before today, or what was happening just a few minutes ago...

And what could happen tomorrow...

Right now I am.

Instead of not.

Because of her.

* * *

**E/N: Okay, I know you might be thinking we didn't go very far with this one, but like Eric said... that depends on how you look at it. Or from whose perspective. So... trust me? **

**And one last thing... I'd really love to hear from you. It would be like icing on a cupcake - that we might have a little fun with in the next one. Maybe. Or probably...**

**xo  
**


	9. Chapter 9: Unexpected Surprises

**So, anyone want a little frosting on their cupcakes? Or something? It can't just be Angela?**

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Unexpected Surprises**

**APOV**

Walking in and finding Eric in our apartment was not what I expected. And finding him yelling at Bella was even less. But finding her baking me cupcakes - which I knew were for me before she said it, and before I saw the cartons of blueberries on the countertop beside her - was the most unexpected thing of all.

Not that I had expectations of any kind of what I would find...

I had none. I didn't know what to think. What to expect. Or what I'd come home to.

I've spent the last hour running through scenarios in my mind, but I tried not to give much weight to any of them. Because most of them were bad. For me. Not at all like this.

"Thank you. I love your cupcakes."

She quirks a brow at me and then laughs, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. I smile and squeeze her hand, still gripping mine. "I meant that, it wasn't actually code for anything... "

"Right."

"But it could be. And I'd mean it even more. You know... if it was."

Her blush deepens, but she instantly soothes my fear that I may have said something I shouldn't have. "I like that it could be. And that you'd mean it even more. If it was."

She looks shyly from my face to our joined hands and moves her thumb gently against my skin before breaking away. "So, um... Eric is upset. He knows that I know, and... he definitely already did. Know, I mean. Did you know that? That he knew? How you felt about me?"

"No. I honestly didn't. I'd never even considered that he could, until you said it earlier. What Edward told you."

I could slap myself for even saying his name. For bringing him here when he wasn't already. But I know he would have come eventually. Whether I brought him, or she did, or he showed up on his own.

But she doesn't pay him any attention. Hers is still on me. "You know... what happened earlier... was kind of a fantasy of mine. Did you know _that_?"

A fantasy of hers? I really must be dreaming this time... "No... I definitely didn't know _that_."

"Yeah... ever since that summer I spent with my mom two years ago. The first one you and I had spent apart in forever? When you met that girl at the beach and... well... did stuff with her? Yeah... a fantasy. Ever since then."

"You fantasized about doing stuff? With a girl? Ever since then?"

"Not _any _girl."

Not _any _girl. Not... Holy shit. "You fantasized about doing stuff with... _me_?"

"I was so jealous... when you told me about her. The stuff you did with her... "

"You were jealous?"

"Completely."

"Why were you jealous? Completely?"

"Because it wasn't me."

"You wanted it to be you?"

"It's not something I'd ever thought about before... not really... and until you told me about her, I didn't think you had, either. But then, after you did, for a while, it was all I could think about. That you'd had this experience... done these things you must have wanted to do... try... and they weren't with me.

"We'd always tried new things together. Shared everything. And that was kind of a major thing... and you'd done it with someone else...

"_Yes_, I wanted it to be me."

"I wanted it to be you, too, Bella."

"Then why wasn't it?"

"I never would have thought that you... would want... "

"Well, I never did. Before that. And I wouldn't now, with just anyone... but you're not just anyone."

"_That_ I know. You'd never make cupcakes for just anyone."

"I definitely wouldn't."

"I'm sorry it wasn't you, Bella."

"It's okay. Now, I mean. You made it up to me today... when it was."

"I'm kind of wishing I hadn't have... yet. Because then I'd have something to look forward to. Well... something besides your cupcakes."

"They're going to be really good. My cupcakes, I mean."

"I know _that_, too, believe me."

"And you know... you don't have anything to make up to me now... but you could _thank_ me for them if you wanted to. After you taste how good they are."

"I could?" I ask, my mouth watering already.

"Yeah. You could," she answers with a shy smile.

"That's good to know. Because I think that's something I'll definitely want to do."

"You _think_?" she asks, somewhat nervously.

"No... I misspoke... I _know_ I will."

Her lip trembles slightly and she bites it sexily to still it before she replies. "Now we _both_ have something to look forward to."

"Oh, Bella... _we_ definitely do... " _But me so much more than you..._

* * *

**BPOV**

The cupcakes are just about cooled, and I think I finally have my blueberry cream cheese frosting just right. Angela has been whimpering for a taste - at least I think her whimpers were for the frosting - from the moment I put the first fingerful into my mouth.

"Hmmm... it's awfully good, but I'm just not sure if it's good enough for _you_," I tease.

"I think _I _should be the judge of that," she declares, narrowing her eyes playfully at me.

"You do?" I ask innocently.

"Yes. I do." She reaches out and wraps her slender fingers around my wrist and brings my hand to her mouth with a _You've-been-tormenting-me_ smile. And I watch as her lips part and then close around my finger. She sucks gently yet purposefully, and then pulls it slowly from her mouth with a contented sigh. "And it's more than good enough. For _me_."

"How do you know it is?" I ask, my heart beating fast and furious in my chest. "There was no frosting on my finger, Angela."

"No, there wasn't," she concedes, smiling sweetly at me, and stops my no-longer-fast-and-furious heart dead still.

But the rest of me is still very much alive. And wanting to feel it in every possible way. "Would you like to taste it now, then?" I ask, dipping my finger again into the bowl. "Should we try again?"

"I would very much like to taste it, Bella. Now. And try again."

I reach my hand up, stunned and trembling at my own boldness for the second time today, and touch my frosted finger to her lips. Her tongue slips out slowly and tastes the sweetness from it and I feel myself start to pulse with an ache for her to do more. Taste something else. Taste _me_. And not just my finger full of the frosting she took from me that melts in that lucky place on her tongue.

I move closer to her - as if pulled - as she draws my finger into her mouth again, and bite my lip as she sucks it clean of her sugary gift from me. Like another one - maybe not so sugary - that I want to give her more of, and know, without doubt, that she'll take.

Her eyes are alive with want for it. For me. I think my confession set it free. She knows that she doesn't have to hide anything from me anymore. That I don't want her to now that I know.

I don't think she knew it when she left me sleeping after her mouth sang its loving lullaby to me, but she knows it now.

It wasn't just a desperate moment of need I had to feel loved.

Not only. And not gone.

I _want _her to want me.

Still.

And I want her to have me.

Again.

As many tastes of me as she could ever want or crave.

I want it to be me.

And tell her silently as I dip my finger again into the bowl and then touch it to my own lips.

Her answer is immediate. She heard me loud and clear. And gives me what I want, her mouth sweet and hungry on mine. Tender. Thankful. And lost...

This kiss is different than the one before. The first one. Different than any I've ever felt or been given.

It's years of love and devotion. Years of _us_. Her and I and nothing else. No one. Like it's been all of our lives, even when there was.

Nothing and no one could ever come between us. Ever.

And certainly not now... as our lips caress, our tongues taste, and our breath becomes one.

There is life in this kiss. The one we've shared. Two best friends...

Who have laughed together. And cried together. And loved...

Together, but separately... "I wanted it to be me... " I whisper against her lips, unable to stop saying those words to her.

Separately, until now... "It's you, Bella. Now... and even then...

"When I closed my eyes... it was you. It's always been you."

"Don't close them now," I tell her, "Keep them open. I want you to see me... and know that it is."

"I know, Bella," she whispers, "I could never not know."

She sweeps my hair from my face, and looks into my eyes, and ghosts her lips against mine, light as feathers. Her tongue sweeps across my bottom lip, and I want it... to feel it... on other parts of me. All over me. And so I tell her... bring my hand up between us, and drag my frosting-covered finger down my neck, leaving a trail for her to follow.

She smiles at me, and licks it sensuously from my skin, her hands now around my waist. Her fingers slip under my shirt and trail up and down my sides, and then across my stomach to the button of my jeans. Her brows raise in question and I nod my head. And then she's taking them off of me, sliding them over my hips and down my legs.

The anticipation is so great that I have to grip the counter to steady myself as I step out of them. Her hands move agonizingly slowly up the backs of my legs as her mouth peppers kisses up each of my thighs, her eyes locked on mine. My mouth falls open as her fingers slip under the bottom edge of my boy shorts and her tongue slips out to lick the patch of damp cotton in front of her. She teases me through it as her fingers tease my skin beneath my shorts before cupping my ass in her hands.

She pulls me to her and her tongue continues to work me through the soaking fabric. It's tortuous. And after another moment of it, I can't stand it anymore, and reach down with one hand - my other still gripping the counter - and try to push them down.

She giggles against me and I whimper at the sensation, and with one final lick she pulls back and yanks them down my legs. "Is that what you wanted?" she teases, freeing my feet and tossing them aside.

"Yes. It _is_," I say, and stick my tongue out at her childishly.

"And _that_?" she teases further.

"Yes. I _still_ want it to be me. Now... "

"I always wanted it to be you, Bella. And never more than now."

I feel my lips form a pout as she stands, because I don't want to wait another second to feel her mouth and tongue on me again. "But not? Or here?"

My questions are desperate and pathetic, but she smiles at me sweetly. "Oh, definitely here, and now, but I have a fantasy, too, and I was thinking how perfect of an opportunity this is to make it real. If that's okay?"

"Make it real," I plead, "God, whatever it is, make it real."

"It's you," she whispers, gripping me around the waist, "Up here."

I push myself up on the counter in a greedy mix of cooperation and anticipation as she starts to lift me to it and she beams at me. But then her eyes move down and her breath hitches as she looks at me on the cool, hard perch she wanted me on.

"You've imagined this?" I ask. "Me up here? Like this?"

"Ever since the first time you put yourself there. A different way than this, of course."

"But you hate this countertop," I say, because I know she does.

"I _did_," she replies, her eyes still downward, "until I saw you on it. Even though I saw less of you on it then than I do now."

"Well, maybe now you'll love it," I suggest boldly, "Because now you can have me on it. All of me... at least I hope that was part of your fantasy... "

She nudges my thighs apart, gently, pulling me closer to the edge as she does, but then she stops. "Maybe this isn't the right time for this... "

"It is. Why isn't it?" My words are desperate again, and selfish, both of which I can't seem to stop being today.

"I don't want you to be uncomfortable, Bella, or-"

"I'm not," I declare, cutting her off. "I'm not at all. And I certainly won't be if you... " She smiles again as my words trail off and I feel my cheeks warm.

"_When_ I... " she corrects, and kisses me softly as her fingertips begin to tenderly graze along the insides of my parted-for-her thighs.

Her mouth moves to the spot just under my chin and my head falls back against the cabinet door, bringing a flash of last night and Edward's cruelty to my mind. But I push it away... I push _him _away... because I don't want him here. And he'd never be here, like this, sweet... and gentle... and ready and wanting to worship me like she is.

My actions and words have been selfish today, for what I wanted and what I want again now. And what she wants just as much, if not more, than I do. She wants me... and wants to give me everything. Make me feel pleasure I've only ever dreamed of... until this morning. And now... as I cry out with the first sweep of her tongue along my only-ever-tasted-by-her pussy.

Something I _did _dream of, when she told me she'd tasted another. The jealousy was instant. And fierce...

But I don't feel it now. Not anymore...

Because I know that was different. And that this is. For her. She _loves _me. She did even before she was _in_. And I feel that love... in her hands as they grip my thighs... lift them... as her lips and her tongue lift me to a place better than any dream. Higher than any could have taken me. Or her, I think... because her moans of pleasure match my own. I'm not even touching her, but for my hands gripping greedily to her hair... pulling her closer... so selfishly... something I've never done or been... but that I know I can do... and be... now... and she'll let me. And urge me to be more... and love me more for it.

Love me... and the taste of me, I think. Because her mouth can't seem to get enough. It's heaven... me to her and her mouth on me... her lips... her tongue... all of them telling me it's me... that, like she said, it's always been.

And I pray... selfish as a person could be... that she never does. Get enough of me. And never stops trying to.

Ever...

"Oh God... Angela... It's me! It's... _me_... and... please... don't... ever... stop... wanting... it... to be... me... ev-... ahhhhhh!"

* * *

**I hope you don't mind I kept things light this time. There's plenty of time for heavy later. Or sooner than. If you're still here then...**

**But for those of you here now, if you want something else light - and tasty, I'm told - I posted a yummy little O/S titled Worth Waiting For. It's on my profile. And it's Edward and Bella. And I promise that one's sweeter than this one. Edward, that is. Though Rose probably doesn't agree. But we don't care what she thinks, you'll like him. **

**I'll try to see you sooner next time. And get to those replies from the last. xo!**


	10. Chapter 10: Today

**Chapter Ten: Today**

**APOV**

"I decided that I don't care." Eric's voice startles me, coming out of nowhere from behind me. "Sorry."

"Don't care about what?" I ask, returning to solid ground and letting him open the entry door for me.

"About you and Bella. Whatever is going on between you. It doesn't matter."

"It matters, Eric. It-"

"It doesn't matter to me, I mean. I know it matters to you."

I unlock our apartment door and gesture him inside with a sigh. I didn't want to do this now with him, whatever _this _is, but I'm not the only person in this equation with wants.

Or feelings.

"We both know that's not true. And you shouldn't pretend-"

"I didn't say it didn't hurt, Angela. I love you, of course it hurts... but it doesn't have to change anything. Between us. It doesn't _have _to matter. And I'm not going to let it."

"So, you want to just go on pretending you don't know, and-"

"I never pretended anything with you. Not telling you that I knew wasn't pretending not to."

"Then what was it?"

"It was being whatever you needed me to be. Or wanted. Because no matter how much you wanted or needed her, you still did. And that was what _I _wanted more than anything. To be wanted by you at all."

"You should want more than that, Eric. For yourself."

"So should you."

"I do."

"But you'll take whatever she'll give you. Or let you give her. Just like I did with you. And will. Still."

"I tried to be honest with you about how I felt... and didn't feel... "

"About me, yes."

"What was I supposed to say? About her?"

"Nothing. And you don't have to now. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Nothing has to change."

"But it has changed. Everything has-"

"You're the one pretending if you think that."

"What do you want from me, Eric?"

"Anything. I just want you. Like you just want her. And she just wants him. The way it was before. The way it still is, no matter how much we both wish it wasn't.

"We're all in love with imperfect. Caught in the intricate web of it. And we're all in it together. And I'm just trying to make you understand that I don't want out of it."

"But what do you get by staying in? Staying tangled in-"

"I get to love you."

"Even though I-"

"Yes."

"How can that be enough?"

The door opens just as I ask the question, and the answer slaps me hard in the face. "Hello, lovebirds."

Eric nods to Edward and smiles at an uncomfortable Bella and puts his arm around my shoulder with a sigh. "It's not.. but it's better than nothing."

* * *

**BPOV**

I didn't want to take Edward back to our apartment when I found him waiting for me after my class. I didn't want to at all.

I tried to tell him that I didn't feel well. That I had a pounding headache, and just wanted to lie down...

But I don't think he believed me.

Or maybe he just didn't care.

Whichever it was, he insisted that it was where _we _would spend the evening. Together.

A week ago that would have made me happy, because he's always sweeter with me when there are other people around, but now...

It just makes me feel like shit.

Even though Eric was here with Angela when we came in, and even though the way his thumb is tickling the inside of my palm as he holds my hand is sending shivers up my spine, I still feel like I'm doing something cruel. And I don't want to be cruel. Not to anyone, but certainly not to her.

Never to the person who loves me so completely. The person who showed me that love so selflessly yesterday, again and again.

The person who _isn't_ Edward. The one who is everything he isn't. And gave me everything he never would, and didn't.

Things I wanted so badly for so long...

Yesterday I had everything. All of those wants and wishes granted...

I was insatiable for her affection. And she didn't deny me. Nothing I asked for, and nothing I didn't have to.

I couldn't get enough of her love. I'd become in the course of a day a spoiled and demanding child, craving attention, needing it. Attention I'd never had before. And wanted more of.

I climbed into her bed, an hour after I'd climbed into my own, because I couldn't bear to let the day end separate from her. Separate from the bliss I'd discovered. Discovered because she'd shown it to me. Discovered because I'd finally spoken up for myself and asked for something.

I'd asked for honesty, and gotten it, and that honesty had made me brave. Brave enough to ask for something else. Bravery that was rewarded. That I in turn rewarded with admissions of my own, which only served to reward me more. Because my admissions were ones she'd hoped for, but never dreamed I'd give her.

I made her happy. My best friend, who wants to be more. More to me. More _for_ me. More than I ever thought she'd be. More than she ever thought I'd let her be.

Until yesterday...

That ended for me in her bed. In her arms. What I wanted... Where I wanted to be...

But not all. Not only.

The selfishness I'd spent the day consumed by was still there. Still wanting and needing. To _be _consumed. Again.

_That's _how I wanted to end the day. Caressed by her fingertips. Kissed by her lips. Tasted by her tongue. That I prayed none of had had their fill of me yet.

A prayer I shared with her... with a simple touch to her mouth with the tip of my finger. And a look... a silent please that made her smile. A smile that made my heart dance, and my toes tingle, before the rest of me that I knew soon would. The all of me that she wasted no time in adoring, but spent hours doing.

It was what I wanted when I went to her. But more than I'd known it could be, even after what I'd already been given by her just hours before. And hours before that.

It was so much more...

And I wanted it never to end. Wanted her never to stop. And the dawn of a new day never to come.

This day. That's not about me.

"Are you going to stand there daydreaming all night, or are you going to feed us, Puppet? We're hungry."

Edward's mouth at my ear quickly becomes a hard bite at my neck and the gentle kisses and caresses of yesterday vanish in a painful whoosh.

"Yeah. Sorry. Just a few more minutes."

I see the hateful look Angela flashes him, and the wicked smile he gives her in return, and I have to look away. It's not the first time I've seen either, they've had many similar exchanges, but I didn't know then what I know now. How she felt and how he knew she felt. Or Eric, who I think must just feel his own hatred now. For me. Though clearly not for her.

He seems to have had a change of heart since yesterday. Yesterday I thought he'd given up. Today, it seems, he's just giving in. To something he can't control. Can't change. And can't live without. Or doesn't want to, anyway.

Or maybe I'm wrong about all of it...

And what Edward said was true. Maybe nothing's different at all. And yesterday he just needed to say it out loud. That thing that he always knew, but loved her too much to care about. Maybe he just needed to say the words to _me_. So he could know that he had. And that I'd heard them. That he'd fought... sort of... for something he knew there was no winning for him.

Because he'd lost before he'd even begun. To me... someone who didn't even know she was playing.

And who doesn't want to. Play in this thing that isn't a game.

People feelings _aren't _a game. And hearts aren't balls on strings to be tossed or kicked around. Aren't puppets to be manipulated to your will.

Unless you're Edward, I suppose. And that heart is mine.

I hated him yesterday. Hated him with every aching part of my body.

Hated him more with every minute that passed without him.

Every moment that passed _with _her.

And by the time I closed my eyes...

Heavy from blissful delirium...

I felt nothing for him.

The memory of him had been washed away.

In a bath with no bubbles...

One that ended my day because another one started it. Another one of a different sort...

But then came today. A new and different.

I woke in Angela's bed alone. She was gone before I even opened my eyes. She had an early morning class, I had a late.

Today we were separate. And when it was time to come home, I wasn't alone, and we'd have to stay that way.

And even though I didn't want to bring him here, I didn't hate Edward today. He smiled at me the moment I saw him waiting for me... that familiar crooked smile I first fell in love with...

And I smiled back at him. Because I couldn't help it. Because I still _do _love him.

A game I don't want to play.

And one that I've already lost.

"Dinner's ready."

* * *

**APOV**

"How's your head, Puppet? Still hurt?"

_God, he actually looks like he cares. Tell him yes, Bella... maybe he'll leave._

She gives him a small nod and I start planning Eric's exit behind him, but he doesn't play along, instead propping his feet up on our coffee table and patting his leg. "Put it right here. I'll make it better."

I have to look away as she immediately curls herself up on the couch and lays her head in his lap.

She didn't hesitate for a second. And I don't think she wants him to leave. I'm the only one who wants that. The only one who will suffer because he doesn't.

At least _now_. I know she'll suffer later. When he bores with being nice again. When he'll probably pull her hair instead of stroke it. Hurt her instead of soothe her. And return her to me damaged, instead of the lovingly healed perfection he's at this moment taken back.

I know it will happen. And I know that I hate it. And him. I despise him. And the power he has over her. Power that was mine yesterday. For _one _day.

Power that I didn't abuse. Didn't take advantage of. And only exercised because she asked me to. Again and again.

Yesterday was like a dream. It started out as a nightmare for her, because of him, but it turned into a dream come true. For both of us, I thought. Because she wanted to wake up. Wanted better. And couldn't get enough of it when I showed her how good it could be.

I showed her because she asked me to. And then I showed her again, because she told me she wanted more. Showed me...

And that hope that I didn't dare to let myself feel started to grow inside of me. Like my want and need and love for her, that I didn't know could get any bigger or deeper.

Until yesterday.

Bella was happy yesterday. Happy because of _me_. And she didn't hide it, or keep it inside. She let me see it. She wore it all over her skin. She reveled in it. And wanted me to.

Even after the day we'd had, and the night cuddled up with old movies in front of the tv, I was shocked an hour after we'd said goodnight when I heard her slip into my room.

I wasn't asleep yet... I couldn't. My mind was whirling with the events of the day. The day that I would never forget...

But it still didn't prepare me for her climbing into my bed. Or the way her deep brown eyes looked into mine as she touched her finger to my lips. She wanted more. To be and to be given.

And just like when she laid her head in Edward's lap a few moments ago, I didn't hesitate for a second. I gave her everything I could. And I didn't stop until she stopped asking. Until her hands stopped pulling me to her. Stopped guiding me over her. Stopped holding me where she wanted me to stay.

I didn't stop until they stilled. And her whispers and cries fell quiet. And her eyelids fell closed for the last time.

I fell asleep bathed in her scent. Lulled by her sweet, satisfied breaths. And with hope that I stopped telling to stay away. Because she'd come to me, and told me she didn't want me to. She wanted me near. She'd held me as close as she could.

Yesterday. The day that we both reveled in. And the day that's gone. The day that closed its eyes to prepare for a new. A new that with every minute is crushing every ounce of my hope...

And with every simple stroke of her hair is renewing hers. For him. Him, who has her head full of silken strings in his hand.

Him...

Who has her right where he wants her.

Today.

* * *

**I'm going to stop even attempting to make promises about the next. Because all of my yesterdays and todays are just plain nuts. A game I'm not enjoying playing, but that I'm trying not to lose. **

**I hope your todays are all wonderful. See you on another... I hope?  
**


	11. Chapter 11: Upstairs, Downstairs

**Chapter Eleven: Upstairs, Downstairs  
**

**APOV**

"Come downstairs with me."

"No."

"Come on, Angela, he's obviously staying. Don't torture yourself."

"He never stays here with her. He always leaves."

"_After_."

"No... _before_. Or instead of. They never do anything here. He takes her home for that." _Thank God..._

"There's a first time for everything."

"No, there's not. Not that. He takes her home because he doesn't want _witnesses_."

"Witnesses to what?"

"How mean he is to her."

"I've never seen him be mean to her."

"Because you don't pay attention."

"I think you just don't like him, so you project mean where it doesn't exist."

"You _saw _him bite her."

"I _saw _him being _playful _with her. And you've been known to like a little nibble from time to time yourself, so why are you making something of it if she does, too?"

"That _wasn't _a little nibble. And she didn't like it, I know what she l-"

"Please don't. I said I didn't care, but... "

"I'm sorry."

He sighs and grabs my hand. "Come and be sorry downstairs."

"No, I don't want to leave her alone."

"She's not alone."

"I don't want to leave her alone with _him_."

"You don't want to, but maybe she does want you to. She didn't look too unhappy when he took her in there. Or before he did."

_I know that. She didn't look unhappy at all. She looked..._

"Come downstairs, babe. I'll make you forget about him, even if I can't make you forget about her. Though I'll try to make you forget about _both _of them."

"Just go," I say, pulling my hand free, and start down the hall to my bedroom. But when I'm just about past Bella's, I can't go any further.

Because Edward didn't go. And I hear the truth of that through her door.

The painful truth.

That she didn't want him to go. And that she's happy that he didn't. She's happy that he stayed. Happy and something else.

I hear the soft whimpers and cries that have become so familiar to my ears...

The kind I heard yesterday.

Familiar...

But not.

Because tonight they're not mine. Not for my ears.

Tonight they're his. From him. And for...

And I can't stay here for another second hearing them. Or any others that may follow.

"Eric, wait... " I call softly, running to catch him before he's gone. "I'll go downstairs with you. I want you to make me forget."

_Even though I don't. And won't. And know I never will._

* * *

**BPOV**

Edward's never spent the night with me before. Not here. Not in _my_ bed...

He's never been in it at all. Until tonight. When he took me by the hand and brought me to it.

I thought he was leaving when he pulled my head from his lap and stood up. But then he pulled the rest of me up with him, said goodnight to Angela and Eric, and pulled me down the hall.

Me.

His puppet.

Who offered no resistance. Let my strings be pulled. Let me.

Because he was pulling _gently_.

His hand was soft around mine. Like it had been on my hair. And my forehead. And my neck, where earlier his mouth hadn't been.

The gentle felt good. The soft, heavenly.

And I wanted more of both. From him, who so rarely gave me either.

I didn't look at Angela as he pulled me past her. I couldn't. I knew the soft and gentle I couldn't help but want - again but different - was hurting her. That I was...

That I was letting him...

But I was still too selfish to stop it.

Something she had let me be. And something that I couldn't stop being. Not yet.

I didn't know how Edward would be once the door was closed... my door...

But I had hope.

And this time he didn't make me feel stupid for daring to have it. He didn't make me feel stupid at all.

He made me feel beautiful. He made me feel special. He made me feel _loved_.

Like she had...

Almost.

His kisses were sweet on my lips. His hands gentle as he undressed me.

And after. As he touched me everywhere. And kissed me almost.

I thought for a second that he would...

That he might...

Kiss me there...

He was close. Closer than he'd ever been before...

But he didn't.

He moved back up my body and slid into me instead.

_Slid_...

Not rammed. Or slammed. Or pounded.

He slid. Gently.

And stayed gentle as he moved inside of me...

And as his lips moved over my face. Over my cheeks that had worn so many tears for him. My eyes that had shed them. And my mouth that had sung their painful song.

My mouth that sings another now. A different.

A deliriously happy...

As I cling to him. Try to hold him. Make him stay...

In this tender, beautiful place he brought me to.

I never want to leave it. Never want him to. Never want to go back to the others that aren't. Plead with him through pampered lips not to take me. Ever again.

He burrows deeper with every whisper of his name through them. But it doesn't hurt me. And I know he doesn't mean for it to. This time. Or maybe ever...

He just needs it. To be as far inside of me as he can get. And to know that I want him there. The place he already is.

The place he owns...

Him and only him.

Alone.

"I love you, Edward... "

* * *

**APOV**

Eric tried. He really, really tried...

To make me forget.

And to make me his for as long as I'd let him.

He tried.

And though he succeeded in making my body forget... remember something else... him... the way he could make it feel...

My heart could only remember one thing: that it was breaking for the girl upstairs, being made to forget the way I made hers feel.

Forget me completely.

Yesterday I was all she wanted. The one whose affection she craved. Revelled in.

But tonight it's his. The man whose affection I don't believe in. And don't trust.

Edward is up to something. And no matter how much she's taken in by it now, I know in the end it will only take her down.

Exactly where he wants her.

I don't doubt that he does... _want _her... How could he not?

But it's more than that. And that more is what I can't stand more than anything else.

Of course I'm jealous that he's with her... touching her... kissing her... doing God knows what to her... and that she's letting him. And wanting him to. And probably wanting him not to stop... like she wanted me not to yesterday...

But _my _want not to... my want to giver her her every... was pure.

Something I know his isn't. And will never be.

* * *

I wake up later than I wanted to, and rush out of Eric's apartment and run upstairs as fast as I can.

I need to see her. See that she's okay. See that she's still in one piece, even if it's his. Even if she still wants to be. Still or again.

I smell the fresh coffee as soon as I'm through the door and head straight for it. Well...

The girl who made it.

But she's not who I find.

"Good morning, _sunshine_."

The sight of Edward Cullen in our kitchen this early in the morning matches the dark, dreary day looming outside. And so does his voice, though certainly not the words it spoke.

"I'm sure it is for _you_."

"It is. Perfect, in fact. Well... it _was_. Until you came back upstairs."

"Well, I'm glad I could ruin it for you."

"Likewise."

"Where's Bella?"

"Getting dressed, I imagine. She just got out of the shower."

"Good. You're all washed off of her."

"For now, maybe. But not out of. Not her heart... or her head... or her sweet little pussy you crave so badly... or her stomach... because after I filled the rest of her, I filled that. After I woke up this perfect morning and filled her hungry little mouth. The one you dream of. The one you'll never feel."

"Wanting it and taking it from her are two different things."

"You're right, they are. And I only took what she _wanted _to give me. I didn't even have to ask. But I have to say... I loved the way she did. Asked me if she could give it to me. Her mouth. Asked me to fill it. With what _she _craved. And what she obviously dreamed of... since she asked for it as soon as she woke up. Right after she brushed her teeth. With her mouth still wet... but not _from_... because it _was_ wet... but it was wet from watering... for the taste of _me_."

I turn and walk away, sick to my stomach, because I can't stand to look at him anymore. Or hear him. His words that I fear are true. Or even could be.

"Where are you going? She's making breakfast in a minute... I know you're _hungry_, too. Oh, wait... it's not her _food _you're hungry for."

_I hate you... you-  
_

"Angela? Are you alright?" The person I could never hate is suddenly in front of me, beautiful and perfect, and much too good for what I'm trying to get away from.

And for the disgust I know I wear on my face, that I force into a smile for her. "I'm fine, honey."_  
_

She looks from me to Edward innocently, and I know she didn't hear a word he said. "Okay. I'm just about to make breakfast. What kind of eggs would you like?"

"Don't worry about me, Bella. I'm not hungry."

"But you never turn down my eggs."

"I know... and next time I won't. I just don't have an appetite this morning." _Because I lost it._

And wish more than anything that she would lose hers...

Any and all of.

For him.

* * *

**I know this was a little short, but my yesterdays and todays are still nuts. And my tomorrows aren't looking any different. And I just wanted to give you a little something. The next something will be bigger, I promise.**

**And now there's a little something I'd like to share that was kind of big to me. This story was nominated for an Emerging Swan Award. The category was Best Slash/Femslash/Threesome. I think the voting ends today, and I'm sure I don't stand a chance in Hell of winning, but I thought it was pretty cool.  
**

**Now, for what isn't... Does anyone have a VERY BIG pair of scissors? Bella needs them. And the strength to use them.  
**

**Till next time...  
**


	12. Chapter 12: Unbearable

**Chapter Twelve: Unbearable**

**BPOV**

When I come out of the bathroom from my shower, I find Edward still in my bed with my phone in his hand.

"Did I get a phone call?"

"Your dad called."

"He did?"

"He did."

"He never calls me in the morning. Did you answer it? Or just see it on the caller id?"

"I answered."

"Did you talk to him? What did he say? Is something wrong?"

"He didn't say anything was wrong. But he couldn't wait. So he said he'd call you later. After we had a nice talk."

"You had a nice talk with my dad?"

"I did."

"About what?"

"About you, Puppet. What else would we talk about?"

"You talked to my dad about me?"

"I did."

"What about, _exactly_?"

"Are you _worried _about what I talked to him about? About you?"

_Ummm... yes._ _Maybe._ "No. Should I be?"

His laugh sounds sinister to my ears but his smile that follows is sweet. "He worries about you being here in this big, bad city with no one but Angela to look out for you."

"He told you that?"

"He did."

"And what did you say?"

"That he didn't need to. Because I'm here, keeping a very close eye on his little girl. Amongst _other_ things. While I keep the big and bad far away from you. But I didn't tell him about those, of course. The other things. I didn't think he'd want to know about those."

_Telling him about those would kill him. Or you... _"And what did he say?"

"That he was glad I was here."

"He did?"

"He did."

"Did he say anything else?"

"That he looked forward to meeting me."

"Oh. Well, I don't know when that would happen. He-"

"It's happening this weekend."

"It is?"

"It is."

"But how? Is he coming to-"

"No, Puppet. We're going. I'm taking you home to your dad for the weekend. And getting you away from this big, bad city."

And Angela...

Who isn't either.

And who won't even miss me, I guess.

Because she doesn't seem to remember that I'm even here...

Since you have been...

"Now, why don't you stop asking questions and bring that too-curious mouth over here where I can feel it instead of hear it."

"I can't, I'll be late for class if I-"

"Did you not hear me say _now_, Puppet?"

"Yes, but I-"

"Will be even later if you don't hurry up."

"Later, Edward, I promise. I-"

"Must not like it when I'm nice."

"No, that's not true. I do. I-"

"Have about three seconds to start trying to keep me that way. And the big and bad away. But remember... whether you do or don't... it was _your _choice."

He's right. It was. And I chose him because _he _was. Being nice to me...

Something that Angela never wasn't. I never had a choice with her. I only had to let her be. And tell her that I wanted her to be even nicer than she already was.

Something she was glad to do.

To me and for me...

When she was still here, where she isn't now because Edward is. And has been for the last three days. And where he _has _been nice... but not as nice as she was. Or as I've had to be to him to keep him that way.

Like I try my best to do now. Again, as I do what he wants and rush to him to do what else. Because it's the only choice I have, really. The only one I can live with. Because I really do like it when he's nice.

Which he's still being... while he strokes my hair as he lays back and watches...

His cock slide in and out of my too-curious mouth.

That can't ask any questions now. Because it's full of the only answer he had left to give me. The big and bad answer.

The one he's given me over and over again for the last three days...

After the morning that I woke up and asked him for what I thought I wanted.

So he would know...

I chose _him_.

* * *

"Dad? Hi. I'm sorry I missed you this morning. Is everything okay?"

"Everything is uh... good. And for you, I hear."

"Well, good is... good. And um... yeah. School's great, and-"

"That boyfriend of yours. He's pretty great, too, huh?"

_When he wants to be... _"Yeah, Edward told me he talked to you... "

"Sure did. This morning. _Early _this morning. When you were in the shower."

_Crap. Maybe Edward misread their conversation..._

_And my dad only wants him to bring me home this weekend so killing him will be more convenient. _

_Well, I don't want him to die... _"Dad... he just came over to give me a ride to class, since we had one at the same time. I was just running late and wasn't ready yet. That's why he was here when I was in the shower. He-"

"I trust you, Bells. You've always made good choices. And from my talk with Edward, I know you have again. He sounds like a very nice and respectable young man. Who was nicely and respectably _elsewhere _while you were in the shower. He wouldn't have been able to answer your phone if he wasn't."

What the hell? I wanted him to believe my lie, but...

But _Edward_.

There's not a doubt in my mind, especially now, that he laid the charm on thick with my dad on the phone. _Really _thick. Because there was a boy in my room while I was in the shower - not that he knows he was in my room, just _elsewhere _- early in the morning and he doesn't sound in the least bit mad about it. He even thinks Edward is nice and respectable _because _of it.

And because he has no idea where Edward was _before _I was in the shower. Or after. Where _I_ was...

And because he doesn't, and because Edward is... well, whatever he is... he definitely _doesn't _want to kill him.

But I still can't imagine that he would agree to us spending the weekend under the same roof even if he doesn't, and even if it's his roof we're under.

Somewhere I don't want to be with Edward. And his charm.

"He said something about me coming home this weekend... after he told me he'd talked to you. I can, but I can drive myself, Dad. Edward doesn't know anyone in Forks, and-"

"He will after this weekend. He'll know _me_. And more importantly, I'll know him. Which is a lot more than I know now, since my daughter doesn't tell me anything."

"I told you about him." _Well, that there _was _a him..._

"You told me there was a boy."

"There's not really much else to tell... "

"And that's exactly why it's a good thing that _he's _bringing you home. So that I can see what you don't think there is to tell for myself."

"Well, what do you want to know about him? You can just ask me. I'll-"

"I have to go, honey. I'll see you Friday night. Edward said you both had early classes, and that he could have you here in time for dinner. We'll go out for that one, but the rest of the weekend I want to eat my little girl's cooking."

"But-"

"I really miss your cooking."

"Of course, Dad. Anything you want, but-"

"Gotta go, Bells! Love you!"

He hangs up before I can get another word out. And once again...

Edward has made sure that I don't have a choice. Not one that isn't him, anyway.

* * *

**APOV**

For the first time in three days, Edward's car isn't outside when I come home.

Three agonizing days, that turned into even more agonizing nights, because it stayed there... here... in my way.

Making those agonizing nights unbearable...

Something that I won't waste time dwelling on now, because, for the first time in three days, I have Bella to myself. Even if I can't _have _her...

Not having her was a big part of the agony. I didn't know it was possible to crave a person so much. I had... craved her... I ached with how much I did.

But that was before I'd had her. The craving after is different. More desperate. More intense. So much more...

It's the unbearable.

That settles over every part of me when I walk through our door and see her...

Bent over and straightening the magazines on our coffee table. Bent over and alone.

And smiling at me. When she turns and looks up. Sort of.

It's not a whole smile. Not an easy or comfortable one. I think maybe she thinks I'm mad at her. For the agony she knows she caused me. And is now. Me... and herself, even if it hasn't hit her yet.

"How are you, sweetie?" I ask her, wanting her to know I'm not. Mad... because no matter how agonizing it is, I understand it.

That she can't help it. Just like Eric can't. Or me...

"I'm okay," she answers, biting her lip for a second. "How are you? I feel like we haven't seen each other in ages."

_So do I... seen or touched... or... _fuck_. _"I'm okay, too. I guess."

"That's... um... "

"_Okay_, Bella."

"You don't have to say that it is. I know it's-"

"_Not_ something I want to come between us," I tell her, because it's not. No matter what happens, I know _that_.

"I don't want that, either, Angela. This... _him_... or anything else. Ever."

There's worry and fear in her eyes. And pain. For me, I think. I can't hope that she feels any for herself.

Not that I would ever hope for her to feel any at all...

I wouldn't. But...

I just don't know. Anything... but this agony that chokes me.

And the love. "Well, I won't let it, Bella. Or him. Anything. You never have to worry about that. Nothing has changed."

"But you've been... well, you... "

"Just went where I was wanted. It was nothing more than that."

"You're wanted _here_."

"So is he," I say, instead of the thing I want to. The thing I can't bear to hear the sound of. Because the feeling of it is bad enough without it. The knowing that the want is different.

She doesn't want me the way she wants him. Doesn't crave me the same. And not at all the way I do her.

And I think that whatever he's been doing here for the last three days has filled what she did.

She craved _being_. Wanted and needed. She ached to feel how much she was.

But I don't think she does anymore. Because I don't see it in her now. Don't feel it between us. And don't hear it in what she doesn't say. To me.

Or in what she does to Edward, who strolls through our door like he owns the place. _My _place. "Thank you. Now I have everything I need."

My stomach turns as she says the words. Roils as he smirks at me with the sound of them, and then smiles at her. Right before he kisses her. And drops as she lets him pull her into the kitchen and away from me.

She didn't even look back. And that hurts, but hurt isn't the only thing I feel.

"Really?" I fix Eric with an angry glare, because Edward didn't stroll through our door like he owned the place alone.

"Really _what_?"

"Don't _what_ me, Eric, you know what."

"Edward got you some wine," is all he says, and then turns and walks away from me and follows them into the kitchen.

I stay where I am, because I refuse to make it that easy for him. And because I don't dare at the moment move. I'm too angry... and if I go in there, more than dinner might get cooked.

Something I know he knows when he comes back after only seconds. "Bella's putting it on ice for you."

"Don't be an asshole."

"I didn't mean anything by that. It wasn't... what are you pissed at me for?"

"Bonding, were you?"

"_No_. I came up because I thought you were home. He was already here with her. And already planning to stay. And then Bella asked if I - we - wanted to have dinner with them, and since all you do is worry about her with him when you can't see them, I said sure. So you could for a while."

"How generous and considerate of you."

"It _was_. I know my wants aren't high on your list of priorities, Angela, or on it at all, but I'd much rather have you to myself. Just like you'd rather have her. But we can't always have what we want. Not when what we want is different than that of the one we love. So, we compromise. _I _compromised. Because I know you've been dying inside for the last three days being away from her. And even though you can't stand to see her with him, I think not seeing her at all is worse for you. Unbearable, even. I just tried to make it not so much for a night.

"And Bella needed some things for the dinner she was planning. Edward offered to go get them, and since you weren't here yet, I went with him. So you could have a few minutes alone with her when you did get here. And if you're mad at me for that... "

"Then I'm the asshole."

"I'd never call you that."

"Not to my face."

"Not to any part of you."

His playful smile makes me, despite everything else I feel.

And I'll try to keep it on my face tonight...

Because I want what I want to feel to see it.

The who _I _will compromise for.

* * *

The smile didn't stay on my face for very long. It got knocked off.

Bella's seemingly endless giggling coming from our kitchen was making me crazy. And _thirsty_.

Because it wasn't me that was making her make that beautiful sound. It was him.

And I wanted him to make me something, too, so it wouldn't be so unbearable to hear. Eric said Edward got the wine for _me_...

So I went into the kitchen with my plastered on smile to accept my gift...

And had the floor ripped out from under me. And the _countertop_...

Because it had been. In a sense.

Because Bella's giggles were coming from on top of it.

Our blue and white tiled countertop that I'd stopped hating. Because my fantasy had come true and she'd let me love her on it. In the most intimate of ways.

Ways she's not thinking about now, like I am.

Ways she's forgotten, I think, as Edward stands between her legs in front of it.

Stands, not bows. Because he never would... bow for her. To her.

He'd never bend like I did. Over backwards if it was what she wanted... and forward because it was.

He wouldn't. Hasn't. And doesn't have to.

He doesn't have to do anything to make her love him. And next to nothing to make her happy.

Giggle with joy.

And take mine away.

* * *

"Did Bella tell you about our plans for this weekend?"

"Plans?" I repeat, dreading what the single word could mean. And hating the look on his face that tells me I should.

"I'll take that as a _no_."

My eyes flash to Bella across from me at the table, but she doesn't meet them, because hers are focused on her fork, that's now moving food around on her plate.

But then they flash back to him... mine... because he's up from his chair and leaning over me, blocking my view of her.

"You like the wine, I see. I'm glad. I've never tasted it... it's not really my thing... or Bella's, as we've discovered... " He laughs - because he thinks he's funny, and maybe also because when Bella tasted it, she made a face that made us all. "...but I had a feeling it would be yours."

_God, I hate him..._

And he loves that I do. Beams with it as he fills my glass.

"Well, at least Bella _tried _it," I say, as he sits back down beside her.

"And _didn't _like it," he retorts. "Which I expected. I know what she likes."

"So do I."

"And it's _not _your wine."

"So, what are these plans you mentioned, Edward?" Eric squeezes my leg under the table as he tries to calm the tension. "Are you and Bella doing something fun?"

"I don't know if fun is quite the word I'd use to describe our plans, but I'm looking forward to it... spending the weekend with Bella and her dad."

I choke on my wine at his carefully and evilly timed announcement, but unfortunately don't spit it all over his smug face.

"You alright, Angela?" he asks me, not an ounce of concern in his tone. "Need a pat on the back or something?"

_Not from you... _"I'm fine. Just went down wrong."

I ignore his chuckle - and the urge to jab my fork into his throat - and focus my attention on the matter at hand. Because I can't have heard him right.

"Is your dad coming to visit, Bella?"

"No... " she starts nervously, "He wants me to come there. Or go... and he um... wants Edward to take me. So that he can meet him."

"And then he's leaving." I say, rather than ask, because it's the only thing that makes sense. Because I've known Charlie Swan since I was a little girl.

"No... "

"No? Well, he's not _staying_?" Again... I _know _Charlie. And there's no way...

"Well, yeah... I mean, he's not just dropping me off. He doesn't know anyone in Forks, so... "

"The whole weekend? With you?"

"And my dad."

Eric wasn't kidding when he said Bella was putting it on ice...

Because it couldn't get any colder than this.

Cold enough to send unbearable chills of dread up my spine.

Cold enough for Hell to freeze over.

* * *

**I'm sorry. It's really all I can say.**

**But I guess I should add that SM still owns Twilight and its characters. Characters nothing like these, who are mine. Or the ones in Worth Waiting For, who are also mine, and who I brought back for a second chapter a few days ago. Second and final. And trust me... that Edward is still someone you'd want to spend time with, whether it be a weekend at home, or three anything-but-unbearable days, or a lifetime.  
**


	13. Chapter 13: Star Act

**Chapter Thirteen: Star Act  
**

**APOV**

"Bella, please don't go. With him. Please... "

"I have to. My dad's expecting us."

"You don't have to. You could tell him you're sick or something? Both of them, for that matter. I'll help you... and we could-"

"Even if my dad would, Edward would never believe me. And that would just make things... I _have _to go, Angela. And he'll be here any minute. I-"

The knock at the door tells me what she doesn't finish. And that my pathetic last-minute plea for her to stay was just that...

_Pathetic_.

And too last-minute to matter.

"Don't worry," she says with a small smile, zipping her bag closed. "It's only two nights with half a day at the end. At my gun-carrying Police Chief dad's house. What could happen?"

"A murder, I'm hoping."

We hear the knock again, harder and louder than the first time. _Too _hard and loud...

But not as hard and loud as the dread I feel as Bella grabs her bag and rushes past me to greet it.

Him...

The too-hard thing that's come to take her away from me. And the softness I want her to want more than it.

Want her to stay for.

But that she doesn't. "Bye, Angela! See you Sunday night!"

Again.

* * *

**BPOV**

"I forgot my toothbrush. Can we go back?"

"We've been driving almost an hour."

"We have?"

"Yes, we have. And no, we _can't_."

"Yeah, I guess that would be stupid."

"There are stores in your safe little town, aren't there?"

"Of course."

"Then we'll stop and get you a new one."

"Okay."

"Because you're definitely going to need one."

"Of course."

"Often."

_I really hope my dad hovers... a lot..._

"I'm looking very forward to this weekend, Puppet."

"Me too, Edward," I say, because maybe saying it out loud will make it true. Or at least something different than what it is.

But it doesn't.

Because it can't.

And because it's not why I did.

I said it because it's what he wanted to hear.

And because I wanted to keep the smile that he was already wearing on his face. Even though it wasn't a sweet one.

Like the one I let him drive me away from...

That I know isn't in place now...

Because I'm not in ours.

"Me too... "

* * *

**APOV**

"Are you just going to lay in here all weekend?"

Eric is standing in Bella's bedroom doorway. Because I'm laying on her bed. Where I've been since she left. Since Edward came and took her away.

Farther away than he ever has. Far enough that I won't hear whatever pain he leaves her with. Or see it.

"She only left an hour ago."

"Actually it's been over two. I was coming in when they left."

"Oh."

"I waited for you to come downstairs, but you never did... So I came up."

"Yeah, I can see that."

"And you know that I'm not going to let you stay in here. Or up here."

"You should."

"Yeah, well, I'm not." He comes into the room and holds his hand out to me, "Come on, get up."

"I don't-"

"Have a choice."

I sit up and level my eyes at him, smacking his hand away. "You know, just because he can get away with that shit with her, doesn't mean you can with me. Don't-"

"I'm not trying to get away with anything, Angela. I'm not him. And I'd appreciate if you wouldn't take your hatred for him out on me. When I only don't want you to be miserable and alone."

"But I am, and-"

"I'm going to make you not."

"Making me not the second isn't the same as making me not the first."

"I know," he says with a sigh.

"I don't think that you can-"

He puts his fingers to my lips to quiet me. Sweetly, because it's the only way he would ever touch me. Because he's _not _him... not like him in any way, and I never should have implied that he was.

"What do you lose by letting me try?"

I lose nothing. And I tell him that as soon as his fingers fall away. Fall to my hand, and pull me to my feet.

And away from the emptiness and dread I was left with.

* * *

**BPOV**

"We'll be there soon. Nervous at all?"

"To meet your father?"

"Yeah."

"No. The only one of us nervous about me meeting him is you."

"I'm not nervous."

His deep chuckle tells me he doesn't believe me. Not that he should...

I _am _nervous. Edward isn't like the guys in Forks. The guys my dad has known since they were boys. Because everyone knows everyone there.

Edward isn't like them at all. And my dad _doesn't _know him. And wouldn't like him if he did. Edward, who reaches over and grabs my hand now. A gesture I think he means to be sweet... comforting... to me... until he rubs it over the growing bulge in his jeans.

_Please let that be all he wants..._

"Take it out."

But I knew better than to hope for that. Because like always, he's only thinking about his own comfort. "Edward, you're driving... "

"Which is why _you're _going to do it."

"I don't think that's safe... plus, we really are almost there. Maybe later we'll find a chance to-"

"We will. And I'll look forward to that, but I want it _now_. And don't worry, I'll get you home to your daddy in one piece."

I wish we were already there. At home with my dad. As much as I really don't want to be there with him...

But we're not. And I know he can't be swayed from what he wants, because he never can, but maybe my hands can appease him... and grant my mouth a reprieve.

So I do what he wants and take him out before he has to tell me again. And stroke him the way I know he likes it.

And he's content with that for a few minutes, but when I feel his eyes on my face I know that contentment has reached its limit.

"Do you want to pull into your daddy's driveway with your mouth full of me?"

"No."

"Then I suggest you fill it _now_. Because the only chance you have of that not happening is to make me before we get there."

"My dad would kill you... " I try, because he would, and because I know nothing else I could say would matter.

"Do I look worried about that, Puppet?"

I look at his face, that I really wish wasn't so beautiful... and the answer is clearly and not so beautifully _no_, though saying that out loud seems pointless... or anything else...

But still... what if someone sees?

"No one's going to see you suck my cock but me," he says, as if he can read my mind. "And my eyes will be on the road. _Most _of the time, which you're running out of."

I look around us now, and there are no other cars anywhere near us, which I know will change soon as we get closer... and which I really don't want to happen...

So I do the only thing I can do - which is, as always, the thing he wants - and drop my head dutifully into his lap and take his cock into my mouth and pray that I can get him off quickly. And without getting us killed.

It's not the first time I've sucked Edward off in his car, but it _is _the first time he's been driving when I've done it. And I can't imagine being able to be coherent enough to operate a vehicle when someone has their mouth on you that way.

There's no way I could have when Angela's mouth was on me... no way at all...

And the thought of that...

The memory of her soft lips and starved-for-me tongue between my quivering thighs takes over me... and my mouth that's full of something I could never be starved for...

Because Edward never gives me a chance to be...

And I suck his cock with a desperation I never have before.

A desperation driven by want. My own. For something else...

Someone else's hunger...

That I'd give anything to feel again now...

"Fuck, Puppet... " he barely gets out before he explodes in my mouth, which does nothing to quell my own ache, throbbing between my legs, but perhaps will quell any other that might have come my way, by way of him.

Tonight, anyway.

When I'm exactly where he wants me. And far away from where I want to be. And where _I'm _wanted.

"Don't forget I need a toothbrush."

* * *

"Thank you for bringing my little girl home safe and sound, Edward."

"It was my pleasure, Mr. Swan."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that."

_You wouldn't be if you knew what he meant, Dad._

"And call me Charlie."

"As you wish."

"So, how was the drive? Not too bad, I hope?"

"Not bad at all. Your little girl has an extraordinarily gifted mouth, and kept me well and pleasantly entertained."

My dad laughs, because he definitely doesn't know what he means. "Well, Edward, I'm glad you think she does, but I've heard her sing, and frankly, I think you might need your ears checked."

"Thanks, Dad," I say, looking wounded, and pretending not to see Edward's smirk.

"You know I'm just teasing you, Bells," he tells me, mussing my hair. "So, are you kids hungry? Should we head right out to dinner?"

"Starved," Edward answers. "Bella had something on the way, but I didn't want to spoil my appetite."

_I had something because I had no choice... _"Yeah, sure, Dad. Just give me two minutes to freshen up?"

"Of course, kiddo. Just don't keep us waiting too long, or you'll have a couple of grumpy men to deal with all night."

"I promise, two minutes!" I call as I rush up the stairs. Because that's the last thing I want. From _one_, anyway.

The one he doesn't know _at all_.

* * *

"I won't allow underage drinking, Edward."

"I shouldn't think so, sir. And I don't have to have a beer, but I _am _old enough to order one."

"You are?"

Edward pulls out his wallet, and his ID from it, and hands it to my dad.

"So you are," he says, studying it thoroughly before flashing it to the unquestioning and unseeing waitress before handing it back. "Well, bring my boy his beer," he tells her, though I'm not sure she heard him, because she's too busy ogling Edward - who I can't believe my dad just called his boy - to be paying attention to anything else.

"And my girl a Coke," Edward adds, seemingly not sharing my surprise, and paying _no _attention to his pathetic fangirl as he does. Not the kind she wants, anyway.

"Thank you," I tell him as she walks away, looking pained to do it. "I don't think she heard _me _order it."

"You're welcome, Puppet," he says with a deceivingly sweet smile, "You know I'd never let you go thirsty."

"You kids and your cute little names for each other... " my dad laughs, completely missing his point, "Reminds me of my young and in love days."

"Dad, please... " _You did not just say _love_..._

"Oh, relax, kiddo. I'm not putting words into your mouths, I'm just saying. Not that I'd be in the least bit surprised if someone loved my little girl."

_As if once wasn't enough? _"Please let the waitress poison my Coke... " I beg, burying my face in my hands.

"I assure you, Charlie," Edward says, stroking my hair tenderly, before pulling my hands down and holding them both in one of his, "There's no shortage of love enveloping her. Or wanting to. Though by bringing her here, I've removed her from the bothersome presence of some of it."

"Have a little competition to tend with, do you, Edward?" my dad asks, raising a curious brow.

"I wouldn't call it that, Charlie. It's just wishful thinking on their part. _Only _their part."

"Well, I hope you're keeping a close eye, in any case? And not letting anyone get too close?"

"Worry not," he answers with an air of undauntable confidence as the swooning waitress returns with our drinks, "I have everything, and _everyone_, under control."

My dad, again unknowingly, smiles at this declaration and raises his beer in a toast, as Edward - knowing and basking in the true nature of everything - picks his up and does the same, while squeezing my hands in his other with that deceivingly innocent crooked smile that secured me to him.

Because we've been here less than an hour...

And he already has my father exactly where he wants him.

* * *

**APOV**

"Where do you think he's sleeping?"

"I don't know. Or care."

"They don't have a spare bedroom."

"So where did you sleep when you went that weekend?"

"In her room."

"With her."

"Yes. But there's no way that her dad would let-"

"You know, he probably wouldn't let you, either, if he knew how you felt about her."

"I'm not talking about me, I'm talking about Edward. And-"

"When do you do anything else? Are you sure you're not secretly in love with _him_, too?"

"I _despise _him, and you know it."

"Yeah, well, she doesn't. Which _you _know, no matter how much you don't want to accept it. And you know what else? I'm tired of talking about it. The thing you don't want to accept. And her. And him, who, again, I'm not, but at moments like this, wish I was, because I bet - no matter where he's sleeping, or _not _- he's doing it the way _he _wants. Without a single thought of anything - or _anyone _- else."

* * *

**BPOV**

**Come down here.**

Edward is downstairs sleeping on our couch. Where he further secured my dad with his knowledge of sports before he settled in.

Or, at least I thought he was, before I got his text.

**Do you need something? **I reply, hoping he just wants another blanket or pillow or something.

**Yes. YOU. **he sends back quickly, dashing that hope.

But I can't give in to his demands now. Because, my dad where he wants him or not, if I went downstairs, he'd just be up. And not anymore. And then I'd be dead.

**I can't. I'd have to go past my dad's door to get to the stairs. And they creak. And so does the floor. And he's a light sleeper. He'd hear me for sure.**

**Then you'd better do it quietly. **he sends back impatiently. **And quickly, because I'm waiting, and you know how much I don't like that.**

**Please, Edward, I can't.**

**I'm feeling generous, Bella. Don't waste it, it will make me mad. And leave your panties upstairs.**

Generous? _Edward_?

I really want to know what that means. And _really _don't want to waste it... and _definitely _don't want to make him mad... but my dad...

Falls from my clearly deluded mind as I climb as quickly and quietly from my bed as I can.

And falls even further as I slip off my shorts, and panties beneath them, before putting them back on.

Because it's what Edward wants.

What he ordered.

Orders my body follows because it's being pulled. Guided. And controlled.

He's pulling on my strings.

Manipulating them. And me.

Because he wants me somewhere I'm not.

Like someone else does.

But unlike her, he has the power to make me give it. Myself.

That _is _loved, but not here.

Where I tiptoe down the stairs because I want to be.

By the person who doesn't.

The person who smiles at me from his bed on my dad's couch as soon as I reach it. Stand before it and wait to be told what my next movement is.

Because mine are his.

Something he knows as he puts one finger to his lips and beckons me closer with another.

Another that he slips beneath my shorts as soon as I am. Because he wants to know that I did what I was told before I did the other and came to him.

And then another becomes two...

Two fingers that glide through my slick willingness... my longing for generous from him... before they slip inside of me and pull me even closer, until my legs hit the couch where he still lays in comfortable place.

Comfortable and _hard_. Which I now see he is as he pulls the blanket back, though I don't know how I missed it before... _I should have seen _that _from the top of the stairs..._

His pajama bottoms are pulled down low on his hips and his cock is standing at its full commanding glory.

"Tell me you want it," he whispers, a low order. "Because I want to hear you say it, even though your dripping-wet-for-me pussy already has."

"I want it," I say, because I can't deny that I do, though I had hoped for something else. As did _it_...

"What was that?" he asks, plunging his fingers harder and deeper inside of me, letting me know without a doubt what his generosity will consist of. And _only_.

"Please?" I ask back, struggling to stay on my feet. "I want it, _please_."

"Well, it's good that you do, Puppet, because I'm going to give it to you. Every fucking bit of it."

"Thank you," I whisper, before I even realize that my lips are moving.

"You will," he whispers back with a cocky smirk, pulling his fingers from me and grabbing my hand.

I'm surprised when he doesn't move, and pulls me instead to straddle him, because Edward never relinquishes control. But I take what I'm being given - every fucking bit of it - as he holds my shorts to the side so that I can as the fingers of his other hand, the ones that were just inside of me, push commandingly between my parted lips.

"Suck them clean," he orders in another low whisper. "And taste how much you wanted that big cock of mine before I so generously let you have it."

I do as I'm told, but can't help but think of Angela as I do...

And the way her mouth seems to love the taste of me so much...

A taste I wish Edward craved. Would ever be so generous to take...

Something I know I won't be blessed with tonight as his hips begin to pound upward and his hand has abandoned my shorts to grip hard around mine.

He didn't relinquish anything.

He may lie beneath me, but he's still in full control of everything.

Everything I feel, everything I do, and everything I will... "Be quiet, or I'll take it away and make sure you can't make a sound."

I nod my head and bite my lip as he pulls his licked-clean fingers from my mouth and digs them into the flesh of my ass, grinding me hard against him, and his cock deeper inside of me.

So deep that it pushes everything else away.

And everyone...

Because I belong to him.

Him and _only _him.

Because his generosity has filled me. And there's no room for anyone else.

* * *

My dad never woke up. Never heard or saw a thing. Last night...

Or this morning. When Edward came into my room when he was in the shower and bent me over my bed and fucked me so hard I was afraid the walls would crumble.

The walls of the house I grew up in. Safely. Under my father's watchful eye.

That doesn't seem to be seeing anything now, but what Edward wants him to. A well-raised and together young man who shares an affection for - and a willingness to shield from all potential dangers, not including himself - his little girl.

He's putting on a perfect show. And my dad is his captive audience. Because I'm his star act.

"Can you get us a couple more beers, honey?" he calls from the living room, where he and Edward have been talking for the last half hour. Talking about _me_.

"Sure, Dad," I call back from the kitchen, where I'm making a lasagna for dinner. Because Edward said it was his favorite when my dad asked him. And then my dad said that I should make it...

Because a good man should be spoiled by the girl he adores.

His girl...

Who isn't anymore.

* * *

**Hope the flipflopping POVs didn't annoy too much this time. Or Edward... but maybe annoy isn't quite the word anyone would use to describe his... yeah, nevermind. And I know we didn't hear from Angela at the end, but she was just too miserable to come back out and say goodbye. You understand, right?**

**Just a quick mention... this story was nominated for a Fandom Choice Award for Best Slash (though I know it's not seeming much like one at the moment), and I also got a nomination for Best Breakthrough Author. I was surprised, to say the least, and I want to say thank you to whoever is responsible for those. I think the voting is still open, though I can't say that I'm sure about that... **

**Or exactly when I'll see you again... but I'll do my best to make it sooner next time. I know I always say that...  
**

**But thanks for reading. And Merry Christmas if I don't see you before. I'm still hoping to wake up and find Edward under my tree. Though not this one...  
**


	14. Chapter 14: Control

**Chapter Fourteen: Control**

**BPOV**

I've just closed the lid on my dad's washing machine when I feel Edward push up against my back.

I jump, because I didn't hear him come in, or even know that he was here at all. He and my dad had left the house two hours ago, and I didn't know that they'd come back.

"Did I scare you?" he asks me, lifting my hair and kissing the back of my neck.

"Yeah, a little," I tell him, a slight tremble to my voice, because he did. And because what he's doing feels really good. And because he's doing it in my dad's laundry room. "I didn't know you guys were back."

"_We're_ not," he tells me, and starts to suck instead of kiss. Really hard. Hard enough to leave a mark.

"Where's my dad?" I ask him, surprised that he's back alone.

"I think he went to see his girlfriend. The one he doesn't want you to know about."

"Do _you _know about her?" I ask as he spins me around to face him.

"No," he says, unbuttoning my jeans. "But he got a phone call that was obviously _from _her, though he played it off as a friend he needed to go help for a few minutes. Then he dropped me off. To _scare _you."

He gives me a wicked smile after the last part, and after yanking my jeans down my legs, my boy shorts with them, and I bite my lip, trying to think of what to say.

He laughs and lifts me onto the cold, hard metal of the machine before I can say anything, making me gasp, and then yanks them down the rest of the way and drops them to the floor.

_If only he would... drop to the floor... and make me gasp..._

"Edward-" I start to protest, because if my dad said just a few minutes...

But he cuts me off. And spreads my legs wide apart as he does. "Did I ever tell you that you have a very pretty pussy, Puppet?"

"No," I answer, because he definitely never did. And has never looked at it quite the way he is now.

A way that makes me tremble again, but not with fear.

Because he's looking at it the way Angela did... before she did more than. And I hold my breath... because I think maybe... he might... finally...

But he doesn't. Only crushes my hopes again as his own jeans drop to his knees.

Oh well... at least he didn't force me to mine. He put me up instead of down. And is still looking at me where he did as his hand starts to move up and down his cock.

Until he's not just looking. He's touching me. Much more gently than he's touching himself. His thumb moves in circles over me... heavenly circles... as his fingers drag through my anxious flesh.

"You're always so wet for me, Bella," he tells me, watching, as I am, his glistening-with-truth fingers make me even wetter. "It makes me happy."

I want to ask him why happy so often doesn't mean nice... but I don't of course. Because then he wouldn't be at all. And I like the nice he's being now.

"I want to. Always," I say instead, because I know he wanted me to say something. Compliment him in some way. Stroke a different part of him than he is.

And it worked. Because he smiles at me now, as he looks up at my face instead of down at something else. The something else that he pulls to the edge of the machine, and then plunges into as his tongue slips into my mouth. And my arms slip around his neck, telling him another something else.

That I love him this way. And want more of him this way, though any more of him in another would kill me.

Something I decide to tell him, because I know it will make him even happier. "I have a very _full _pussy."

"Yes, you do," he tells me proudly, looking down at it again, full of _him_.

"And I think it must be even prettier now," I add, because in this moment I want it to be to him.

"Much," he answers, filling it even more.

And me with hope.

That any more of would kill me.

* * *

"It was good to meet you, Charlie," Edward says to my dad, extending his hand.

"It was good to meet you, too, Edward," he says, shaking it. The way he does when he respects someone. Trusts them. "I think I'll sleep much better at night now, knowing you have a firm grip on things with my little girl."

"I promise I do, Charlie. You can sleep like a baby."

My dad smiles and gives me a big hug. "I love you, Bells."

"I love you, too, Dad," I tell him, and then get into Edward's car.

And he's still smiling as Edward closes my door before walking around to his own. And still as Edward waves and pulls away, grabbing my hand after he does and telling me just how firm of a grip he really does have...

"I really enjoyed the ride here, Puppet. And you should know I plan to enjoy the ride back just as much."

"You will," I say, because saying anything else would be pointless. And because it's better than saying nothing. Will make him happier than if I did.

_Has _made him...

And Edward happy can only make me happy.

I hope...

Until I get home to who always does.

* * *

Edward was definitely happy by the time we pulled up in front of my and Angela's apartment. Because you can make someone very happy in three hours. Have time to do it more than once.

Or so I learned in the three we just spent in his car.

Because he _does _have a firm grip on me. And made sure I understood that. Would willingly and happily swallow the truth of it. Again and again and again.

Something I did. Willingly, anyway...

I couldn't quite muster happy. Because I'd swallowed enough of that after the first time. And really didn't want any more.

But I know what I want doesn't matter. Not to him.

Not the way it matters to someone else. Who I don't see when I walk through our door. But who I know is here as I keep walking towards my room.

Because I hear the shower running when I near the bathroom door. And then Angela's voice call from behind it, "Bella?"

"Yeah, it's just me!" I call back, continuing past it. But then I drop my bag on my bed and go back to it, because I know she won't mind.

And because I want to brush my teeth. And gargle.

"Are you alone?" she asks me as I step into the steam-filled bathroom, closing the door quickly behind me so she doesn't freeze.

"Yeah, Edward dropped me off and headed home."

I know she's happy about that, but it's not what she says. "So, how was your weekend?"

"Better than I expected," I tell her, putting toothpaste on my brush. Because it was. Much better. We both came back alive... "How was yours? Did you do anything exciting?"

"It was okay. Nothing exciting, though," she says, and I think she's finished, so I pop the toothbrush into my mouth and start brushing. But then she adds something else. "I missed you."

And I feel bad, because now I have a mouth full of paste and can't say anything. Which she doesn't know, but which could very well hurt her feelings because she doesn't. And I don't want to do that; the reason she missed me has hurt her already, I know.

So I peek my head around the shower curtain to show her. And she sees me - and smiles at me - but I see something, too...

Angela in a different way than I ever have before.

She's naked. Completely. Something I knew she was, of course, since she's in the shower... but something I didn't think about, because I've seen her that way before.

But not this way. The way I keep looking at her. Can't stop looking at her. Because she's beautiful. Something I also already knew, but...

Even after everything that happened... everything I let her do... wanted her to do... had even fantasized about her doing...

_This _is different.

Everything I let her do was selfish. Even my fantasies...

_All _selfish.

They were always about me. And for.

How she might make me feel.

And how she did when I let her. Begged her to. And then again, when I didn't have to.

But it's not what I'm thinking now. Well... not only. As I stand here looking at her with a mouth full of toothpaste, because before I was it was full of something else. Someone...

Someone different than who I'm looking at now.

And suddenly and surprisingly wanting a mouth full of.

I want her. My beautiful best friend who wants me. And who missed me.

I missed her, too. Even when Edward was happy, and I was...

I still missed her. But not as much as I do now. Miss something I never had. Which I didn't think a person could do, until this moment when I know that isn't true because I do.

And when I finally look up at her face, instead of all of the rest of her that I've been staring at, I see that she knows about my newly discovered truth, too.

My newly discovered _want_.

"You should spit that out," she says sweetly. Graciously. "And I should get out of here... the hot water's run out. I'm freezing. Sort of... because I'm kind of _warm_, too. At the same time."

I nod and back away, back to the sink, to remove all things familiar from my mouth. Still thinking about what isn't. But what I want to be.

The same thing that made her _warm_, even though she was cold. Freezing. At the same time.

Because she missed me.

* * *

**APOV**

Bella's silence when I told her I missed her made me feel cold.

It hurt.

Until she showed me why she was. And then showed me something else. Something she's never shown me before. Or felt, I don't think, until the moment she did.

I know she just spent an entire weekend being selfless...

Even though they were at her dad's... I _know _she did. That Edward found opportunities to make her. Probably even on the way back here. Because she came right in and brushed her teeth as soon as he dropped her off.

Wanted to.

Because she'd had enough of him. Much more than enough, I'm sure. Even though she wants him. That her heart can't help but.

But, as selfless as I don't doubt she had to be, she showed me that she was willing to be again. Even though I'd never make her be.

Her wanting to be is more than I've ever dreamed of. And it's _enough_. That she does.

Not because I don't ache for it...

And not because I'm not tempted to let her be...

But because I love her. And because I know she's given enough. And taken, in a way that wasn't for her at all.

Which is why, when I step out of the shower and she kisses me and tries to pull my towel from around me, I don't let her. Pull the towel free, I mean. I wouldn't deny her kiss if I were on fire and denying it was my only chance at cool.

"I was selfish," she says as she pulls back just a bit, just enough to say the words that could never be true about her. "And I'm sorry... and I don't know how... to do what you did to me... but I want to. To you. And for... I really do."

_God, give me strength... because I want her to, too..._

"You could never be selfish, Bella," I tell her. "It's not in you." Because I find it. That strength I was praying for.

"That's not true, Angela. I _was _with you. I know I was. I knew it then, but I-"

"No, you weren't. You just wanted someone not to be with you."

"Yes, but-"

"And you deserved that, Bella. And still do."

"But it shouldn't make me-"

"No one should _make _you do anything."

"No one's making me now."

"No one _here _ever will."

"But no one's letting me, either. Do anything."

"Not because they don't want to. Let you."

"Then why?" she asks me, "Is it because I was just with him?"

"It probably should be..." I tell her, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the bathroom and to my room. " ...or part of why... but it's not. I can't make myself care about that when you're not with him, no matter how recently you were." _Or care about how recently I was with someone. Being selfish..._

Something I won't let myself be with her, no matter how hard it is to fight it. And how much harder it's getting by the second. Because she's sitting on my bed, and her eyes are on me in a way they've never been.

They're all over me as I drop my towel. Telling me exactly what she did a few moments ago.

And that she's confused, I think. That she doesn't know what she wants.

She says it's me... now... but she wouldn't if he were here. And if he hadn't have been so _there _before he wasn't.

I want Bella more than anyone or anything I've ever wanted in my life. And I want her to want me the same...

But I don't think that's what this is. And I won't take advantage of it. Or of her. Not the way she's offering to let me. Telling me she wants to.

So I put on my clothes... cover up the parts of me that ache for her... because I want to show her that another part of me aches more. For her.

"Maybe someday, Bella... God knows I dream of it... but not today. Not-"

"What if _I _wanted something?" she asks, before I can finish.

A question that changes everything. Because I'm definitely not _that _strong.

And she knows it. What I'm trying to fight, and what I won't. Can't...

"Would you still say no? Not today?"

She's standing now. And just took off her sweater. It lies on my floor at her feet. Where I'd lie, too, if she wanted me to. Or even if she didn't, and only let me. And where her jeans now lie, as well, because she just dropped them there.

"No," I answer. "I wouldn't." But don't move. Because I can't. The sight of her has paralyzed me.

Something else she knows, because she comes to me. Brings herself. Right up against me. And puts her lips against mine again. And tells me what she really wants. Because she knows now. "I missed you, too, Angela."

My eyes fall closed as her tongue slips into my mouth...

Because tasting her is powerful. Extraordinary. And what she wants me to show her now.

And make her feel. Because he didn't.

She was gone for three days and had no control over a moment of it.

But she's back now. Here...

With me...

And I'll give her all that she wants. In ways she doesn't know yet she can take. One, anyway...

That I try to show her now as I pull away and climb onto my bed. Lay back and wait. For her.

"But you said... " she starts to say, because she really doesn't know.

But then I smile at her. And gesture at what still covers her. What she didn't take off yet.

And then I think she gets it. Because she reaches behind herself and unhooks her bra. And then drops it to the floor and looks at me, as if she's afraid she misunderstands, her hands hesitating with her on the last thing separating her from what she wants.

"You don't have to miss anything, Bella," I tell her now, "Not when you're here. And never when I am."

It's her that smiles this time, making me as she slides the in-the-way cotton down her legs and out of. Hers and mine. And climbs onto the bed. Over me. Kissing me with anticipation...

Until she can't control it anymore.

Because she's too anxious to control something else.

Something I understand fully as she crawls up and takes it. And makes me take her.

Something she can make me do anytime she wants.

Because tasting her is powerful...

And extraordinary...

And I missed it.

Just like she's telling me she did.

* * *

**Perhaps what Bella really wants is to have her cake and eat it, too? Or _serve_ it...**

**What do you think? Do you think it's selfish of her? Or that she feels more than she's _feeling_ now?  
**

**I know the answers, of course... I'm just curious what you think they are.  
**


	15. Chapter 15: Us

**Chapter Fifteen: Us  
**

**APOV**

"Angela, do you hate me?"

Okay, I know I'm delirious from the taste of her still on my tongue, but hearing things can't be normal, can it? "_What_ did you just ask me?"

"I asked you if you hate me."

"If you don't know the answer to that question, Bella, especially now... then I owe you an apology. And a better played encore performance of _I love Bella_."

"I'm pretty sure that last part would be impossible... and you certainly could never owe me an apology for what you just did... and let me do... "

_You can ride my tongue anytime, beautiful girl..._ "Then why on earth would you ask me that, sweetie?"

She sits up in the bed and brings her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, and looks down at me. "Because I'm a selfish, greedy, horrible human being."

"If I recall, we ended up here because you wanted to do something that was none of those things. Because you never could be."

"That's not true. I could. I wouldn't be where we are if I wasn't. And I definitely wouldn't have been where I just was... smothering you with my greed."

"I invited you to smother me. With _you_. And I loved it. And would love it if you did it everyday, so, if anyone is greedy, Bella, it's me."

"Don't tell me you'd love it, Angela... I'm already out of control. That will just make me even worse, and-"

"Too late, I already did. And I really and truly would, so-"

"I'm being serious."

"So am I."

"Am I like him? Am I like Edward? Am I-"

"No."

"Is this what he does with me? What I'm doing now with you? Have I-"

"_No_, Bella. You're nothing like him. And this... " I sit up and brush her hair away from her face. Gently. Sweetly. Affectionately. "This... is _us_."

I leave it there, hoping I can. That it's enough. Says everything I could in just a single word.

And I see it in her face... what it means to her. And what I mean to her. But it's not the only thing I see. "I don't know what I'd do if there wasn't an us, Angela. If I ruined it... and-"

"You could never do that, Bella."

"You know, I hate him sometimes... "

"I know you do."

"So... I mean, it makes sense that you might-"

"I could never hate you, Bella. It's _not _the same, honey. You're _not _him. Not like him in any way. You're good. Good to the core. On the _inside_. Not just out. And not just when it's convenient, or when you want to manipulate someone. That's Edward, _not _you.

"And all you do with me is let yourself be vulnerable without fear. Let yourself want, and need... and be given both by someone who loves you, and who would never hurt you. Or want you to have anything less than what your wants and needs could ever be."

"But those wants and needs have been-"

"What you do now. And there's nothing wrong with that."

"But how isn't there? And how can it be different? Because that's exactly what Edward... it's... he... "

"I know that your relationship with Edward is a very physical one. And very one sided... but it doesn't mean it's the same. And it doesn't mean you are, just because you want to feel something. Something good. Something for you.

"There's nothing wrong in wanting that, Bella. The only thing wrong is that you have to. That he leaves you needing to."

"You mean exactly like I do? With you?"

"You wouldn't have today, if I'd have let you not."

"No, but you didn't. And I said okay. Didn't fight you. And then didn't not ask for something for myself."

"Because you knew you could. And knew that that something for yourself was something for me, too."

"But-"

"You gave me something, Bella. By being willing to want... unable to not... you gave me a gift. Your trust. And your sweetness. Your beautiful, heavenly sweetness... " I let my words trail off... and give her a chance to follow them. Their meaning... that puts a smile on her face and a flush on her cheeks.

And chases away the worry that they wore before.

Because she lets them.

Because we're _us_.

Me and her.

And she could never ruin that.

* * *

**BPOV**

"Hey, Dad... I'm sorry, I totally forgot to call last night and let you know we got back safely. I-"

"It's okay, your boyfriend didn't, so you're off the hook this time."

"Edward called you?"

"He sure did. As soon as he'd dropped you off. Because he's a courteous and responsible young man."

I stare into my cup of coffee and think about all of the ways he isn't. Courteous, anyway... to _me_...

And then I think about Edward having my dad's phone number. And using it. And how else he might. And why...

"And, in case you didn't already know, I like him. A lot. You did good, kid. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Dad," I say, because I don't have the guts to tell him he shouldn't be. To tell him that his daughter is in trouble. And that that young man he likes so much is the reason. Because I like him, too. Too much...

"I'm always proud of you, Bells. You know that. And you don't have to thank me. I'm your dad... and seeing how good you turned out... well, that's just the proof that I didn't do too bad. And that's all the thanks I'll ever need."

_No, Dad... you did great. I'm the one who screwed up... _"You didn't do bad at all. You're the best, and I love you."

"I love you, too. Now, get to school," he tells me, because my dad doesn't do well with sappy, even though I know he's grinning from ear to ear with pride right now.

"Yeah, I was just about to leave. I'll call you in a few days?"

"You better."

"I will, I promise. Have a good day at work."

"You, too, kiddo, at school. And tell Edward hello _after_."

"I will." _Because I don't have the guts to tell _him _what I should, either._

* * *

"So, what did you do last night, Puppet?"

"Nothing," I say, because I didn't. _Angela did it all..._

And did it all again this morning because I woke up wanting her to again.

Something I didn't feel guilty about, because she wanted to, too. And made me feel how much she did. And see it on her face after. How happy it made us...

Both of us.

Though thinking about it makes me something else now. Something I can't let Edward see. Because if he knew...

If he ever found out...

Well, I don't even want to think about what he might do. He thinks it's funny that Angela is in love with me. That she wants me...

But he wouldn't if he knew she'd had me, even though the part of me she's had is a part he doesn't want. Well, sort of...

He wants it... just in a different way. _His _way. He thinks it belongs to him. Is _for _him. And not for me at all. And certainly not for anyone else, whether to pleasure or pound.

Something that Angela does the first of. And will whenever I want her to.

She meant what she said with all of her heart. And her mouth that she said it with. In every way that I could hear or feel...

But Edward... "What did you do?" I ask after I clear my throat. Because talking to him is better than thinking about it anymore. Because Angela isn't who's next to me.

"Had a few beers with the guys. Then jacked off, imagining I was doing it into your mouth, and went to sleep."

Well, at least he was content to imagine. Though I'm surprised he was... really surprised... and that he didn't show up at our apartment to do more. Or make me.

"And don't look so sad, Puppet. The only reason you were denied that honor, is because I'd had too many beers and wasn't fit to get behind a wheel, or on _two_."

_Thank you, Heineken... _"Well, I would be much sadder if something had happened to you, so I'm glad that you didn't take the risk to honor me." _But don't worry, Edward... someone else did... and it was..._

"That's very sweet of you, Bella, and that sweetness should be rewarded... and will, when I give you the honor tonight."

I smile because it's what he wants to see, and because we just pulled up in front of my favorite restaurant.

And no matter what I'll have a mouthful of later, right now it will only be what _I _want. "Thank you," I tell him, and he smiles back at me. Because he thinks my thanks is for what he said, though it wasn't at all. I said it because he opened my car door. Because he's being nice again. For now.

And _nice _is all I've ever wanted.

From anyone.

* * *

**APOV**

"Miss me while we were away?" Edward sits down next to me on the couch the moment Bella closes the bathroom door.

And having him that close to me makes me ill, so I scoot as far away from him as I can, which is unfortunately only about four inches. And not nearly far enough. "Like the plague."

"Well, I missed you."

"I'm sure. And you're welcome to keep doing so and leave." _Dick._

"Do you know _what _I missed about you?"

"I haven't a clue. Nor a care."

"I missed that look that's always on your face... that sad, pained, pathetic look you wear like a neon sign that's stuck on and won't turn off. Because I have what you want... and can whenever _I _want it. And in whatever way."

_Dick. Dick. Dick!_

And what do I even say to that? Because he's right, he does. And, as much as I'd like to think he's wrong and he can't... I know that he's not. And that he can.

And he knows that I know it. "And do you know _how _I want it tonight?"

"No. And again, don't-"

"I want it wrapped around my cock. Her mouth, that is. That's always warm... and wet... and sweet... something that you'll have to take my word for, of course, because you'll never have the pleasure of feeling it."

I want to tell him I could have...

And that I have against my lips...

I want to tell him so bad...

But I'd never do that to her. Because if I did, _he'd _probably do something to her...

But the thought of her beautiful, sweet mouth on him... it just... "I hope she bites it off."

"That's your fantasy, not hers, Angela. Not hers at all... "

I might even be willing to let him put his dick in my mouth just for the chance. "We could give that a go? See how it plays out for you? And her. My fantasy, that is."

"Did you just ask to suck my dick?"

"I don't know, Edward... Did I?"

"I think you did."

"And?"

Bella comes into the living room just as I issue my one word challenge, and a disgusting smile spreads across his face. Followed by a disgusting too-low-for-her-to-hear-him reply... "No thanks... but you're welcome to watch my _puppet show_."

"I've seen more than enough of that," I spit, just as Bella comes to join us on the couch, or rather, on his lap, because it's where he pulls her.

"Enough of what?" she asks, because she really didn't hear him.

"Dick," Edward laughs cruelly. "I suggested she go down and see Eric so we could be alone... but she doesn't want to."

Bella gives me a troubled _I'm sorry _look, and I shake my head, telling her it's not her fault. "I'm going to take a shower and go to bed," I say, and get up. "Consider yourselves alone." _As alone as I'm willing to let you be._

"Good night," she whispers softly, as he says the same with no softness at all.

Because he just isn't capable of it.

* * *

"Fuck, Puppet... " I hear the moment I open the bathroom door. From the living room... where they apparently still are. And where he's also apparently getting exactly what he wanted. "You have such a good little mouth for me."

And it makes me completely sick... but I can't seem to move. From this spot where I stand in the hallway. This spot where I can hear. And can see...

Something I never wanted to... but something I can't look away from.

Edward is on the couch, and Bella is on her knees in front of him...

Sucking his cock like her life depends on it.

Or like she wanted to get him off as quickly as she could so she'd - and he'd - be done by the time I was done with my shower.

Something she didn't do.

Because he didn't let her.

He wanted me to see. He wears it all over his cocky face, that's cockily looking right at me. While I watch her bury _his _in her sweet, beautiful mouth...

The one she wanted to give me last night.

_Wanted _to, not had to, like now. When I'm suddenly aching for it. The difference I know I'd see. And _feel_.

She's making him feel good...

But it's tainted. There's no innocence in it. No pure. No sweet or soft.

No _us_.

She's not doing it because she wants to. Not anymore. Not like she did before.

She used to want to... I know that. She'd talked to me about it many times, when he was still putting on his nice guy act.

She wanted to make him happy. Please him in every possible way a girl could. Because she loved him. And thought he loved her.

She talked to me about it because she was nervous. She didn't want to disappoint him. He'd already taken her virginity from her, but he hadn't claimed her mouth yet. And she wanted to give it to him before he could ask her for it. A gift of sorts. To show him how much she loved him.

Something I painfully tried to help her do. Because it was what she wanted from me then. Pleasure for someone other than herself.

I don't think I'm an expert at sucking a guy off, but I've never heard a complaint. Certainly not from Eric, who would say no one could ever do it better. So I tried to help. Gave her pointers and tips...

Even rented a movie or two to show her, and watched them with her while we laughed. Because those _movies _are ridiculous...

And smiled at her when she'd come home after the first time she'd done it and told me how happy she'd made him, the mouthful he'd given her in return for her gift proof. And then laughed again when she told me it was indeed disgusting, just like I'd said.

She doesn't need pointers anymore. Doesn't need tips... doesn't need to watch movies...

I know that by watching her. Something I'm still doing. And he's still watching me do. While she watches nothing.

Her eyes are closed.

But not because she's lost in the joy of pleasing him...

I think they're closed because she just doesn't want to see where her sweet-intended gift has gotten her.

Or _what_. The what he finally stopped holding back. Because he wanted me to see him give that to her, too, and for her to take it. "That's right, Bella... drink it up, every drop... just like you always do."

I turn and walk away now... because I've seen and heard enough. And, like Bella, have swallowed more than...

And as I climb into my bed with tears in my eyes...

I pray for her to come to me.

And that someday...

_Us _will be more than enough for her.

* * *

I heard Edward leave not long after I left the room. And then heard Bella's footsteps in the hallway.

And I assumed she was going to the bathroom to rid herself of what he left behind.

But her footsteps stopped outside of my door instead. And then I heard nothing for awhile. Nothing but the beat of my own heart... a desperate pounding... an irrational want... for her, in whatever way he's left her to me.

And when she opens my door a few minutes later, my pounding heart nearly leaps from my chest.

She doesn't even knock. Because she knows she doesn't have to. It's all over her face as she walks into the room. A confidence. And a purpose.

The second of which I misunderstand...

Because I think she wants something. To be given like she gave.

But when she pulls the blanket back and climbs in beside me, she tells me otherwise. "I was going to brush my teeth and go to bed... but I don't want to sleep in mine. And I don't want to just brush away the taste of him. I want...

"I want the taste of something else to make me forget it. The taste of _you_."

"Bella-" I start, but she shakes her head, and that simple movement takes away my strength to continue. And as she lowers her mouth to hover over mine, I don't even remember what I was going to say anyway.

"Don't tell me no. I need you to give me this. I need _you _to take it away. To let me... "

_Okay, Bella..._

I know where her mouth just was...

What and who just filled it...

But I can't bring myself to care. And when she lowers it just a bit more, I lean up and take it. Let her give it to me. Share it with me. What she wants and what she doesn't.

And what she gives relentlessly now. Without fear or sorrow or shame.

And without guilt.

Because she knows I love her enough. And more than I hate anything else. Or anyone. Even him...

Who _isn't _here now, even though I can taste him on her tongue. And then not...

Because it leaves my mouth and moves down my neck. Slips from her lips in sweet kisses over my skin, as her soft, yet anxious fingers pull my t-shirt up and over my head, exposing me to her. My breasts that heave in anticipation for her touch. My pounding heart beneath that heaves with love for her.

I've dreamed of this moment so many times...

And even when the others I'd dreamed of came blissfully true, and Bella let me have her... I never imagined this would follow.

That I'd feel her lips against me. Her tongue circling my nipple as she pulled it into her mouth and sucked... making me whimper her name in stunned delight.

I knew her mouth would feel like nothing I'd ever felt...

Would surpass my dreams...

And knew it even more as I watched her give it to him mere minutes ago...

But as it moves down my stomach and her hands work to expose the rest of me, I know my dreams didn't do it justice. And that my body can't possibly be worthy of such a gift.

One that she bestows upon me as her tongue takes its first tentative taste of my aching want. And then its second... less tentative than the first. And its third... which isn't at all.

And it doesn't leave me again...

Her sweet tongue...

With its sweet, selfless purpose...

Because it's found it. What it came here for. What she did...

The taste of something else. Something different. And something new. In the old...

The always.

The _us_.

That I need as much as she does...

And tell her I do as I hold her gently to that taste she came for, while reaching down with my other hand for the one I want to share.

And I think she doesn't understand for a moment... what I want...

But when she looks at me with her beautiful brown eyes, she sees all she needs to. All she knows, and all I've told her. And she moves...

Not her mouth, but the rest of her. Spins it around... and lets me free her. Expose her, like she did me. So that I can have a taste, too. Replace the one she shared with me with the one I pray she always will.

The one she gives me gladly as she settles herself over my waiting mouth...

And buries hers in me...

And we give each other something beautiful.

Take the same.

And get lost...

In us.

The way I wish it could always be.

* * *

**In your face, Edward!  
**

.


	16. Chapter 16: All Because of You

**Chapter Sixteen: All Because of You  
**

**APOV**

Best night of sleep of my life?

Last night.

Most ground-breaking, earth-shattering, eye-rolling orgasm of my life?

Also last night.

And also mouth-watering. Because at the same moment I had mine... Bella treated me to hers. Her breaking and her shattering and her rolling...

Last night was the best night of my life. Hands down.

Hands _everywhere_...

And hands full. Both of ours, because we fell asleep that way, with them full of each other.

And it didn't matter to me how the day started - though I had indeed started mine with her - or the night...

All that mattered to me was how it ended. And that ending couldn't have been more perfect. Something I don't think I was alone in feeling.

I've slept next to Bella enough times to know when she's content. Happy... peaceful... and unhindered...

And I know that she was last night. All of those things. And more.

She slept like a baby in my arms. A baby that was full, and dry - sort of - and loved, who didn't have a care in the world...

Because she knew she'd be taken care _of_. Always.

Just like I know I will now... even though I woke empty-handed. Well... _pillow_-handed...

Because the scent that is Bella - the one I don't already wear - wafts down the hall and into my room and hovers above me. Like she did, before she buried me under her heavenly sweetness.

It calls me. Lures me. Like she did long before I had the divine pleasure of knowing it.

And though I'd love nothing more than to stay here in this bed and have her bring me breakfast...

_Be _it...

I get up. Because I know she has a different one for me in the kitchen. One she made for me instead of just is. Could be...

Because, just like I told her, she's _not _selfish. And she never has been. Not with me.

* * *

**BPOV**

Last night was the most amazing night of my life. It didn't start that way...

But it's how it ended up. _Amazing_.

Because I spoke up for myself. Sort of... after I didn't.

But late is better than never, right? Asking for something you want? Need? And getting it? And giving? What you know someone you love dreams of?

I think it is. And I'm proud of myself, something I'm not very often.

Not since I met Edward.

He made it hard. Impossible, even. Because he is. Both of those things.

But Edward isn't why last night was amazing. He's not part of that equation. The one plus one.

He's just the third that I let jumble it up. Something I don't think I'm going to do anymore. Something I _know _I won't, or let him.

Because late _was _better than never. And I'll never forget it. The clarity that that knowing - discovering - brought me.

It's all around me, just like the rare sunshine that brightens Angela's and my kitchen. That I'm making her breakfast in. Or was...

Her blueberry muffins are in the oven. While she still sleeps in her bed. The one I went to, and asked for something in. And got. And _gave_.

And while _I _stand here tracing the grout lines in our blue and white tiled countertop. The one she doesn't hate anymore. Because I got something on it. And on her...

Because I gave it to her. After she gave it to me. Something...

"Those muffins smell heavenly."

"I'm glad you think so," I say as I turn around and smile at her, "and that our minds seem to be in the same place this morning... because I was just thinking that exact thing about something else... that it was heavenly."

"What were you thinking about?" she asks me, coming closer.

"How you don't hate our countertop anymore. And why."

"There's definitely a _heavenly _reason for that."

"Do you think you'll think that it was - still think it - a month from now? Or six? Or six years?"

"Bella, I'll think that it was forever. And I'll prove it to you now if you want me to, or need me to, by _showing _you."

I know that she would... _will_... would do it happily...

And the thought of that... the temptation to say 'Do it'...

_Scream _it...

Makes me shift. Squeeze my thighs together... and sigh. Because I can't let her. Not yet, anyway. "Can I have a rain check on _now_?"

"You absolutely can, Bella. If _that's _what you really want."

"Well... " _God, it's so not... _"It's _one _of the things. And the only one that will ensure I don't burn your muffins."

"You're probably right about that," she says, glancing at the timer I set for them. And balking at it, and its pending short duration, that I know isn't nearly long enough... for _her_.

And which makes it even harder not to jump up on this tile and...

I clear my throat and smile at her, a smile that makes her, and then turn around to pour her coffee into the waiting mug I pulled from the cabinet with my own over an hour ago.

"Can I tell you something?" I ask her, as I hand her her favorite mug. "About last night?"

She looks fearful of what I'm going to say, but doesn't say no to my request. "Of course."

"It's not a bad something," I tell her, because I don't want her to think for another second that anything about last night could be to me.

And because I didn't, she makes a show of expelling her breath and gives me a playful smile. And a thankful. And I return it, and give her something else that I think will make her happy. "I had a dream last night. About us."

"So did I," she says, and takes a sip of her coffee. And then moans... "But I was awake when I had mine."

"I really don't want your muffins to burn," I tell her now, "but you're making my not wanting to hard."

"I don't believe that," she says, shaking her head at me, "because I know how _soft _your wanting is. And how hard it isn't. Or, not, if you prefer."

"You are _this _close to eating blueberry CHARCOAL for breakfast!" I warn her, holding up my millionth-of-an-inch-apart fingers.

"Okay, okay," she laughs, "Since you slaved over them for me, I'll stop tormenting you with how much I love slaving over you. And _under_."

"Angela! I am not that strong! You seriously have to stop!"

She mumbles something I can't hear this time, and by the look on her face, I know it's a good thing I can't. Because blueberry charcoal would surely break all of her teeth, and I couldn't live without her beautiful smile.

Couldn't, and don't want to. Ever. Which is exactly what my dream was about. My _not_.

And exactly what I want to tell her. "We were together. In my dream... like... _together _together. It was just us. Just you and me. There was no one else. Nothing. Between us or in the way.

"No Edward. No Eric. And no pain. Because no one was being selfish. Or playing games. Puppet or any other.

"And no one was holding back. Or anything inside. _We _weren't.

"And it didn't feel like settling... like it does now, because we aren't. Together, I mean... or _only_.

"It felt right. We were happy. Free. Complete. And complete_ly_.

"It was beautiful. Amazing. Perfect.

"It was us, Angela. And it was everything."

"And when you woke up?" she asks me, her mouth trembling with the hope I know is consuming her. And her eyes bright with it. And generous, not keeping it from me. The bright or the hope or the anything...

"When I woke up... " I tell her, and reach for the mug in her hands, just as the timer goes off. "Ugh! Give me one second!"

I feel her smiling eyes on me as I rush to the oven, grabbing the mitts on the way and shoving my hands in them as quickly as I can. And still on me as I fling open the oven door and reach in... to the undeniable heat in front of me... while I feel another behind me... that I can't reach soon enough... get back to...

But then I feel them move... her eyes and her heat... get closer... so soon enough will come even sooner... for me...

Because I'm doing this thing for her...

And want to do another for us...

_Will _do...

Which she knows, I think. Shows me with her _beaming _eyes as I show her her... "Sorry, I just wanted them to be perfect."

"They are," she whispers, leaning down and breathing them in, "More perfect than any dream could make them."

"I think so, too," I tell her. Not because I'm arrogant. Or think I'm perfect. Or that anything I do is.

But because I made them for _her_. Because she loves them. And me.

And because I love her. More than someone else.

And more than I can hold back anymore. "Because when I woke up...

"All I wanted was you. And me. And _this_. _Us_.

"Doing things for each other. Nothing things. And wanting to. Things that could never be.

"And won't. If you truly want to be awake with me. _Only_."

"I do, Bella. If-"

"_When_," I correct. "Because I said I wasn't that strong... a few minutes ago... but that's because you're you. And I'm me. And what you want to do to me is...

"Okay, I refuse to get distracted by what _that _is...

"_Until_ I've done something for you. And for myself. That I _am _strong enough to do. And will. Today. As soon as my dad gets here. Because strong enough I am, but stupid I'm not. Or won't be anymore, at least."

"Your dad is coming here today?"

"Yes."

"Did I know this already and forget somehow?"

"No. His coming wasn't planned. And he is because I called him this morning, before you woke up, and told him I needed his help. That I was in trouble, and have been... and have been lying to him about everything being good... and okay... and about Edward... more than anything... who isn't who and what he thinks he is... or who or what I thought he was... who or what he pretended to be that made me stop thinking clearly... "

I pause and pick up the pair of scissors I pulled out of the drawer as soon as I woke up and show them to her. "He's coming because I don't want to live that way anymore. Be manipulated and controlled by someone who doesn't love me. And doesn't want me completely. Or want me to be _complete_.

"He's coming because I'm cutting my strings today. Cutting Edward out of my life.

"And because if he didn't come, and go with me when I do... I'm not sure if I'd have one to live with you, which is the only thing I want. I swear it is."

"You don't have to swear, Bella... I-"

"Need you to know that I mean it, Angela. That I'm not playing games. And that I never meant to with you. Or to let him... and that I'll make it up to you... everyday... in every way that I can... for when I did. And when he did. And-"

"Shhh... " she whispers, touching her finger to my lips. "You don't have to make anything up to me. The only person you owe anything to is yourself. The girl I love. Who someone else didn't know how to. Didn't see how impossible it was not to. Because he was too busy playing games with her heart to see how beautiful it was. How beautiful _she _was. And still is, more than ever, despite how hard he tried to break her. Make her small. So he could carry her around in his pocket... tied to the end of a string... that she doesn't need to cut free of...

"That _you _don't. Because you're strong enough to _break _it. All by yourself. And smart enough to make sure you land in a safe place when you do. And get brought back to another. Where I'll be waiting. To not hate that damn blue and white tile... and love why I don't... and you... if your dad doesn't kill me, too."

"I promise I won't let him," I tell her, against her finger, before I pull it into my mouth... suck on it... because I _want _to... and then slowly back out... "Because you're right... I do owe myself something. I owe it you. And I want it. Today and every other. Because I had an amazing dream...

"And I want to live it all. While I'm _awake_. And I can't do that without you."

"You're sure that's what you want?" she asks me, "Or _think_ you want?"

And I don't blame her for doubting me. I created however much of it she feels. I pulled on her strings, too. And then left her to dangle on them... again and again...

But I _am _sure. Now. That I only want to use them to pull her closer to me. And tie her there... _here_... where I brush my lips softly against hers... and _know_. Without any doubts. "I'm _sure_."

"And all because of a dream?" she asks, reaching up and tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

"Well, there was a nightmare, too... " I tell her honestly, "_first_. One that you woke me up from... _shook _me free from... and away...

"But no matter how you look at it... it's all because of _you_. My best friend. My - for all of my life - other half. And my whole. That I want to _be_. Always."

She has tears in her eyes now. Happy ones. "You only had to ask, Bella," she says, and rests her forehead against mine. And closes her tear-filled eyes. And smiles as they fall to her cheeks.

I reach up between us and wipe them from her skin, softly, and sweetly, the very way she wiped the nightmare from mine. "I'm glad I did," I tell her, causing her eyes to open again. And swallow me whole. "That first day. When I was being selfish. And again... now... when I still am, I guess."

"You're glad?" she asks, "Now?" And laughs. A laugh that gives me chills. The good kind. "Oh, Bella... just you wait... " she says, and spins us around... moves me backwards... until my back hits the countertop she doesn't hate. Softly. Before she lifts me onto it. And smiles... really big... and walks away.

_Huh? Walks away?_

Straight to the pan of muffins.

_Oh... well, I did want her to have them..._

And grabs two and walks back to me. Puts them in my hands. And then jumps up beside me.

"Just... " Takes the one I hold out to her. "You... " Takes a bite. And moans... "Wait."

* * *

**I have a feeling she won't have to wait very long. For anything. Because it doesn't take very long to eat a muffin. And Charlie is at least an hour and a half away still... What do you think?**

**Now, while you ponder that, I'm going to be honest about something here. I had plans for this story, slightly different plans, but those plans changed along the way. The end result didn't/doesn't/won't change, but the getting to it did. And I'm not sure why that is, but I went with it, and didn't question it very much. I figured they were just telling me to do it differently. So, that's what I did. And now that I have, it's pretty much over. There's only one more chapter, and it's probably more of an epilogue? I don't really know. Or if I'm supposed to mark this complete now? But, since I don't, I guess I'll just do it on the next one, which will be the last. **

**I also don't know how any of you do/will feel about that, and the things I didn't and won't show you, but Bella wants her nightmare to be over, so we won't be seeing any more of Edward. Charlie can tend to him without us. Sorry if that's a disappointment, but I have my reasons, beyond what Bella's are. And you all hate him anyway, so...**

**Thank you for reading. And waiting to. I'm sorry about that part, and I promise the last won't make you for long.**


	17. Chapter 17: Awake

**Chapter Seventeen: Awake**

_**One month later...**_

**BPOV**

I just finish zipping my bag closed as Angela steps into my room with her own. "Ready?" I ask her cheerfully, pretending not to see the nervous shade of green she's been since we woke up this morning.

In this room. And my bed. Together.

_Together _together, the way we've been, and slept, in this room or hers, since my dad left here a month ago. The only thing we haven't shared is a closet, because the ones in this apartment are too small.

"Ready as I'll ever be," she says, trying her best at a smile and failing miserably.

"My dad loves you, Angela," I tell her, and pick up my coat from the bed. "That hasn't changed."

She quickly crosses the room to me and drops her bag down next to mine, then takes my coat from my hands, holding it open for me to slip my arms into. "He loved me more when he didn't know _how _I love you."

Nervous as she is, when I laugh at the memory of the look on his face when I told him how that was - and that I loved her the same way - she joins me. Because it was funny. Hilarious, one might even say.

"And now he's had an entire month to let it sink in, and everything else I told him. And I promise you, you have nothing to worry about. Unlike _me_." Because Angela's parents don't know yet. And I really don't think they'll take it as well as my dad did, after that funny look fell from his face. "But I'm not going to let it make me sick. Or ruin our drive. Or-"

"Oh God, you're going to sing in the car, aren't you?"

I stick my tongue out at her and every last trace of green falls from her skin. Because she didn't take it the way I meant it. "Don't tease me, pretty girl. Unless-"

"Time to go!" I announce, cutting her off and making her pout.

And then myself. Because we're heading home for Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving with our _families_, who are likely to stand - and sleep - in the way of our celebrating what we're both most thankful for this year.

Each other.

* * *

**APOV**

The drive to Forks wasn't as dreadful as I thought it would be. Bella sang... but she did it with such carefree joy that there was no way it could be anything but beautiful to me.

Seeing her dad again wasn't dreadful, either. He still had a bit of a funny look on his face when he looked at _us_, but it wasn't unwelcoming. He knows I love his daughter, that I've loved her all of our joined lives, and that I'd never hurt her.

Not like someone else did. Someone else who he'd welcomed, before he found out he shouldn't have and...

Well...

We don't really know what happened to Edward. No one has seen him since the day Bella broke free from him.

Her father wasn't with her when she came back to our apartment. She came back alone, and in one beautiful, perfect piece.

And we've joked about that...

What may have befallen Mr. tall, bronze, and detrimental while we waited for Charlie to come back...

But we really have no idea. Or if he'll turn up someday... in pieces or otherwise.

Not that either of us really believes that Charlie killed him...

Disposed of him in some way...

But we don't know that he didn't, either. Because, unlike I ever would or could, Edward did hurt his daughter. And then thought he had her father's blessing to keep doing it, because he'd put on a show worthy of an encore.

Something Charlie knows I'm not doing when he comes through their front door and finds Bella and I cuddled up together on his couch.

We weren't doing anything... just waiting for him to come back...

And hoping we'd have something else to be thankful for when he did.

But the look on his face doesn't feed that hope. "I tried, girls... "

"Thanks," I tell him, and settle deeper into this place where I'm welcomed and wanted. "I know that was probably really awkward and uncomfortable for you. I appreciate that you tried for us."

The really-awkward-and-uncomfortable-for-him that I refer to is talking to my parents. My dad, especially... who didn't take my announcement well at all. Talk about dreadful...

My mom gasped and cried and clutched her chest with one hand while the other never left her open mouth...

And that was bad enough...

But my dad...

Well, he flipped his preacher lid. And the roof nearly off the house. And then dropped to his knees in desperate, frenzied prayer, before he threw us out of it. Us, the _sinners_...

"Maybe with a little time... " Charlie adds, trying to offer something, "they... he... "

"Maybe," I say, and kiss the top of Bella's head as she rests it sweetly and sorrowfully on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she tells me, and I know that she is...

But I won't accept that from her. "Don't say that, Bella. Because I'm not. No matter what happens, with a little time or a lot, I'll never be sorry for what I have."

She wraps both of her arms around the one of mine that her body rests against and squeezes. And what that means - the many things it means - is more than I ever could have hoped for.

"So, Thanksgiving dinner here, then, girls?" Charlie asks now, coming to sit in the chair nearest us, and adding to that more.

"Yep," Bella says and smiles. "A perfect party of three._ In the USA_."

We both laugh and shake our heads at her, and then Charlie says something else. Because he's not holding anything in anymore, either. And maybe because he doesn't want her to start singing... "Actually, would a party of _four _be okay with you, Bells? There's someone I want you to meet, and... well, I thought maybe... "

Party of _four_?

So much for Bella not singing...

* * *

_**Five months later...**_

**APOV**

I had a late class today. Bella did_ not_. And I can smell what she was doing after her early one as soon as I open our apartment door.

And then I can see it. Because when I walk into our kitchen it's perched perfect and delicious and waiting for me on our countertop. The blue and white tiled one that I still love - more than ever - six months later.

The one that I've loved - and Bella on - more times than I can count _in _that six months.

And the one that I definitely love now... because she's on it again. Wearing nothing but a smile. And with a blueberry cupcake between her open-and-waiting-for-me legs. "Happy Anniversary!"

"Happy Anniversary," I beam back at her, ecstatic - though not entirely surprised - that she remembered what day it is. And wants to celebrate it so generously.

I know a six month anniversary isn't a big deal to most...

And is one that probably passes for that most without any thought, celebration, or recognition at all...

But Bella and I _aren't _most. We're us, and it _is_ a big deal.

Because six months ago today, Bella's nightmares stopped. And that was a dream come true for me.

Not only because of what that meant for me... but also because of what it meant for her.

It meant that she wouldn't hurt anymore. Inside or out. In places I could see, or places I couldn't, but longed to be buried in.

And - though I will be minutes from now... buried... sooner, even, maybe, than minutes - I'm not just talking about that place between her open-and-waiting-for-me legs.

I'm talking about her heart. Mine. _Ours_. The one we share now.

The thing that we are, that makes us _us_...

Two girls, _one _heart.

"Aren't you going to take a bite?" Bella asks me, her anticipation of our celebration sweet and sinful and spread all over her. Like frosting on a cupcake... "Of your present?"

"No... not a bite... " I tell her, picking up the cupcake from between her legs and setting it to the side on the blue and white tile. _Far _to the side...

"A something else, then?" she asks, bracing herself the second my fingers begin to move up her delectable legs in silent answer.

And even though they do, "Mmmm-hmmm... " I answer anyway, and sweep my tongue across her slightly parted lips. Which makes her part them more... and her legs in my hands...

Or maybe I do that...

And then kiss her... long and slow and senseless...

Like the entirety of my life that I want to spend with her. Loving her. Celebrating her, and with.

In every way. And definitely the one she wants now. And doesn't hold back asking for as my mouth nears my gift. Though she doesn't _ask _at all... "Lick me, Angela. Lick me until I break."

The way I do... bury myself in doing... for _us_.

* * *

Bella and I are sitting on our couch, her delicious cupcakes in hand. And mouths...

Mouths that are wide open, even though they're full. Because we're watching the news, and what we just saw on it...

Well...

It's shocking.

Tall, bronze, and detrimental has resurfaced. Telling us that Bella's dad didn't kill him.

And that, just maybe, he might be wishing he had.

_Edward_, that is...

Who is definitely wishing he still had Bella's sweet heart in his hands. And her sweet mouth somewhere else.

Because he put his dick in one that wasn't.

And got it bitten off.

Tall, bronze, and detrimental is now tall, bronze, and bloody. And broken, it would seem. To say the least.

_Karma is a bitch, isn't it, asshole?  
_

A bitch - and I mean that in the most affectionate way... seriously, LOVE her - who looks like a girl who isn't.

Because the girl who had a mouthful of fed up looks shockingly like Bella. Seriously... so much so that I'm wondering if Charlie's been keeping a secret. A nineteen year long secret.

Even though I know that he's not and hasn't been. Bella _doesn't _have a twin...

But Edward sure found himself a girl that could be.

And maybe that means that he did love her... in some sick and twisted way...

Because he tried to get her back...

Replace her...

_With_.

But no matter what he felt for her or didn't, he failed. Because there's only one Bella.

And she's mine.

In every way.

In the warmth and sweetness that's snuggled up against me...

And in the 'not holding anything back or inside' that now bursts through her open mouth, soggy cupcake and all, into the air and all around us. And _all over_.

Because she's laughing. Hard and loud and pure.

Because Edward Cullen got what was coming to him. What I fantasized about. Dreamed...

While I was awake.

While she's living what should only ever have come to her.

The other thing I did. And still do. Will. Six years from now and sixty.

"I love you, Bella. And - and don't get jealous - the other one."

She snickers at that... the part I added at the end... and turns all of her attention and happiness on me - and removing the soggy, chewed up cupcake _from _me. That I don't mind wearing at all... because it came from her sweet and happy and wide awake mouth...

"I love _us_, too."

**The End.**

* * *

**Yeah, I went there, and took the tall, bronze, and detrimental puppet master with me. I couldn't resist. No one's mad about it, are you? **

**And now that the _silly_ questions have all been asked... I want to say thank you, to anyone who gave me and my girls (and even that damn boy) a chance. I know this kind of story isn't for everyone, and I truly appreciate anyone who went out of their comfort zone to read it. And thank you a million times to Stephenie, for creating characters so many of us love to play with. **

**So... that's it. Maybe I'll see you around sometime, for something else. Be well, and be happy.**

**xo,**

**hgi**


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